


if you've lost your way (i'll leave the light on)

by commandmetobewell



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And no one dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but still mostly lou, but this time both my babies are a bit fucked up, damn daniel back at again with the angst train, sorry??, updated tags, yup its ya bitch but it has a happy ending this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-12 07:25:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 43,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18441809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandmetobewell/pseuds/commandmetobewell
Summary: Lou's always had two things to help her cope: Debbie and the bottle.Until one day, Debbie leaves, and Lou only has one thing left.





	1. Pre-Canon: Debbie

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Abuse, Alcoholism, Suicidal Ideation, Mentions of Rape and Past Trauma.
> 
> aka why do i do this to myself.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The second someone mentioned you were all alone.  
> I could feel the trouble coursing through your veins.  
> Now I know, it's got a hold.  
> Just a phone called left unanswered, had me sparking up.  
> These cigarettes won't stop me wondering where you are.
> 
> Don't let go, keep a hold."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yup its a pain fic rip me. expect the next update soon.

When Debbie meets Lou when she's twenty-five, it's because she's young and stupid.

Lou is this elusive, wild thing--platinum blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, a Cheshire grin and flirtatious smirk. She's tall, intimidating, has this mirth that you only see in the movies, and it drives Debbie insane. She's almost untouchable, and Oceans crave the impossible. So, being the impulsive woman that she is, Debbie saunters over. She can feel Danny's gaze behind her, watching as she makes her way towards her mark. 

"You got a name?"

Lou's head snaps up at the question, her lip curling further into that teasing smirk. "Do you?"

Debbie shivers at the slight accent underlying that husky rasp. "Debbie."

"Mm," Lou hums, " _Debbie_."

Debbie hates the way the name rolls off her tongue, the way Lou eyes her up and down, raking her soul and reaping what she can.

"Lou," the woman replies, holding out a ring-studded hand out. Debbie grips it tightly, swallowing down the nerves. She keeps her eyes on Lou's as her fingers reach up for Lou's watch, remembering how Rusty had showed her to do it, to be careful and to make sure not to let Lou feel--

"Oh," Lou chuckles suddenly, glancing down lazily to where Debbie's fingers are primed over the latch of her watch. "If you wanted a closer look, all you had to do is ask, sweetheart." Debbie flushes and attempts to reel backwards, but Lou's fingers latch onto her wrist gently. And then, Lou's eyes flit over her shoulder to Danny, and for a moment, Debbie realizes that the look in Lou's eyes isn't wariness, but recognition.

"I didn't know all Oceans had an affinity for criminality," Lou chuckles lowly, letting go of Debbie's wrist. "Your brother too shy to say hi, now?"

"What?" Debbie asks, flustered as she turns around to see Danny hiding his grin behind the back of his hand. "Oh, that bastard…"

"Brothers," Lou laughs as she reaches for her beer and takes a swig. "I get it. Got one of my own, too. Annoying little shit, but I love him."

At that moment, Danny relieves Debbie of the tension as he walks over, offering his hand to shake. "Lou-Bear, it's been awhile."

"I hate that name," Lou mutters as she swats his hand away with a grin. "Is she the best you can do? You're not going soft, are you?"

"Hey," Debbie interrupts with a cold glare. "I was doing just fine until you caught me."

Lou just arches her brow, amused. "Of course, honey. That's exactly what you should say when they're questioning you, too."

"Take it easy on her," Danny admonishes, wrapping an arm around Debbie's shoulder. "I brought her here to learn from you."

"To think that I was once one of the greatest con-women in the east coast," Lou snorts, taking another swig of her beer. "Now I'm supposed to be your little sister's glorified baby-sitter?" Debbie scowls at that, ready to raise her hands, but Lou takes another smouldering look at her and smirks once more. Neither of them see the knowing look passing over Danny's eyes as Debbie tries (and fails, miserably) to look offended.

"You're like the same age as me," Debbie mutters, rolling her eyes. "I hardly think you're at Danny or even my _father's_ calibre."

"Not even close," Lou says with a wink, biting her lip flirtatiously. "I'm even better, honey."

"Now now," Danny warns carefully, tightening his grip around Debbie's back. "I think we can agree to disagree there."

Lou ignores him, her eyes set only on Debbie as she takes another drink. "Always need your brother to protect you, huh princess?"

"I can take care of myself," Debbie mutters quietly, shoving Danny's hand off her shoulder. "I'm an Ocean."

"Yeah," Lou says nonchalantly as she grabs another beer from behind the bar and extends it to Debbie. "But don't you want to be more?"

For the first time in her life, Debbie eyes the bottle, then Lou, and realizes that maybe Lou has a point.

* * * 

"If you don't want to work with her, we can call it off."

Debbie looks up from where she's packing her bag to see Danny leaning against the frame of her bedroom door, concerned. Debbie just shrugs and continues packing. Danny sighs and walks into the room, gently placing his hand on her arm to stop her controlled movements.

"Deborah," Danny says quietly. "If you want me to tell her to fuck off, I will. I've known Lou a long time."

"How come I've never met her?" Debbie asks, turning around and crossing her arms. "Have you run jobs with her before?"

"Many," Danny says, smirking half-heartedly. "Since she was a kid--maybe seventeen? Works hard, gets shit done."

Debbie doesn't know what to say to that. When she was seventeen she was focused on school and fitting in, not about living up to her last name. Danny sits down on the edge of her bed, taking one of her stuffed animals into his hands and looking over at the multi-coloured dog fondly.

"I remember when I bought this for you. What did you name it again? Mr. Darcy? God, to think you even read that book and enjoyed it--"

" _Pride and Prejudice_ is a literary masterpiece," Debbie argues, glaring at her brother. "Sorry that I was the only educated one in our family."

Danny just rolls his eyes and reaches out to mess her hair up with a tousle. "Yeah, you and Lou would get along great. She's also a total nerd."

"Ugh," Debbie exclaims, ignoring the information about Lou as she reaches over, pushing him off. "You're a moron, Danny."

"But you love me," Danny says, flashing his signature grin. "Don't ya, sis?"

"Regretfully."

"Listen," Danny says, his voice taking a serious note. "About Lou. She's good. A bit cocky, but it's a front really. She's loyal."

Debbie eyes him carefully before she sits down on the bed. "Danny, what's this really about? What am I doing with Lou?"

Danny shrugs, almost sadly. "I won't always be there, Debs. I mean, the shit we do, it's bound to catch up with us one day."

"You going to die on me anytime soon?" Debbie asks, arching her brow. Danny chuckles, shaking his head.

"Not yet, but I'm serious. Lou's good, and honestly, if you two got to know each other, you'd hit it off."

"So you're trying to set me up with her then," Debbie concludes, giving her brother the side-eye. "I like girls, Dan, but she's not my type."

"No," Danny sighs as he rubs the back of his head. "I just… if I can trust anyone to be your partner, it's Lou."

Debbie contemplates the heavy weight beneath Danny's words for a moment. It's not that she didn't like Lou. It's just that her first impression of Lou was intimidating, to say the least. Lou was confident, and it wasn't like Debbie wasn't confident. She was, but Lou, she exuded confidence and experience. Even though they were roughly the same age, based on Danny's description of her, Debbie recognized Lou as someone who might be a good partner. Maybe Danny was right. Maybe the arrogance and charm was all a front, and Lou was really a soft puppy on the inside.

 _A soft puppy? Yeah right_.

Debbie won't kid herself that much.

"Besides," Danny says with a shrug, drawing her attention back. "I think Lou could use a friend like you."

He doesn't say more, but something in his tone of voice makes Debbie feel uneasy.

"Okay," she says, ignoring the curiosity burning in her gut. "I'll do it."

* * *

It's not that Lou takes her under her wing, not really.

They're equal partners through and through, but they recognize each other's strengths. Debbie is smart, Lou is meticulous in execution. There's something about that Bowie-esque style and the alluring charm which works with men, women, and everyone in between. Lou is calm and suave, but can be wiry and dangerous if need be. They start with small cons, rigging bingos in community halls, making a grand a week. They live in the back of Lou's beat-up Chevy, riding along the road until they reach their next mark. It gets old quickly, and Debbie grows antsy for more.

It's been a year; Debbie  _craves_  more.

"You think you can handle more?" Lou asks her between a pull of her cig, leaning against the railing of Debbie's motel balcony. Debbie looks to the small briefcase of cash and shrugs. When Debbie doesn't reply, Lou turns around, extinguishing the cigarette with the heel of her boot.

"I want to be like Danny," Debbie admits quietly, shrugging. Lou snorts.

"In prison?"

"He fucked up," Debbie growls, crossing her arms as she glares at Lou. "But I won't. I'm better than he was, Lou."

"You got caught trying to steal my watch the first time we met, Ocean. Don't blame me if I don't have faith in you," Lou chuckles with a wink as she saunters past Debbie for the mini-bar. She reaches inside, settling a small weight in the place of the whiskey bottle. Debbie watches as Lou uncaps the lid and downs half the bottle before flopping ungracefully on the bed. Debbie watches, growing more frustrated as Lou looks away.

"I can't believe that Danny thought you would be a great  _mentor_ ," she stresses the word sarcastically, earning another snort from Lou. "You're nothing but a drunken, cowardly mess of a woman who would rather sleep in her car than to reach for something more." If Lou's hurt by her cutting words, she definitely doesn't show it. Instead, Lou just takes another swig of the bitter liquid and looks to her watch.

"Do you want to do something big?" Lou asks, arching her brow. "Then let's do something big, princess."

Debbie blinks as Lou swings her legs off the bed, finishing the bottle with one last gulp before tossing it in the garbage. She grabs another bottle from the fridge on the way to her jacket. She pulls the leather over her shoulder, depositing the small bottle of Absolut in her pocket before turning to face Debbie with an arched brow, that playful smirk returning to her face. Debbie is confused, but she doesn't let it show.

"Fine," Debbie says, trying not to let her voice crack. "What do you want to do?"

Lou reaches into her leather pants to pick out a flyer before tossing it over to Debbie, who fails to catch it.

"You're going to need to work on your hands if you're gonna move up in this world," Lou laughs as she slips on her aviators and reaches for her car keys. "Now come on, we have a long trip ahead of us, and I have a lot to explain to you. Grab your shit and let's move, Ocean."

Debbie looks to the pamphlet, eyes widening. "You want to go to Atlantic City?"

Lou laughs again, zipping up her leather jacket as she winks in Debbie's direction.

"Danny fucked Vegas, so I guess he didn't leave us much option, did he?"

Debbie flinches at the thought of her brother, but as she fumbles with the paper in her hands, she realizes that Lou is right.

"Yeah, I guess he didn't."

* * * 

"All you have to do is deal the cards," Lou explains as she turns the car onto the freeway. "I'll take care of the rest."

"Don't they have security measures in place, you know to detect people like… _you_?" Debbie asks, looking over the set of meticulously crafted notes Lou had written out for her. She hates to admit it, as she stares at Lou's beautiful cursive print, that Lou is more than she could have ever imagined. She regrets what she'd said days ago, but she knows that she's too stubborn to admit it. Besides, Lou's ego could use the hit.

"People like me?" Lou repeats, smirking. "Do elaborate, Ocean."

Debbie rolls her eyes. "Card-counters, Lou."

"I prefer statistical geniuses."

"Arrogance gets you caught," Debbie warns, "besides, I'd hardly count you as a genius."

"You've never seen my academic history," Lou laughs, switching lanes. "I'm sure if I'd been in the right place, I would be working for NASA right now." There's a moment, a tense pause as Debbie digests the words when she hears the slight remorseful twinge in her partner's voice.

But then, Lou continues, her eyes glazing slightly as her gaze stays glued to the empty highway in front of her. "I loved science and math as a kid. I stayed after school to talk to all my teachers, eager to learn from them. I would spend most of my time holed up in the library, reading and learning. Taught myself string theory and quantum physics. Do you know how complex black holes are? I mean human life is so insignificant when compared to the vastness of the universe. I mean, when you think about multiple universes, it gets even more whacky."

Debbie feels her cheeks heat up as she listen to Lou dive into a passionate rant about space and wormholes. It's so unlike Lou, but then she remembers Danny telling her that Lou was a nerd, too, and she gets it. Lou's face softens into an expression of solemn nostalgia as she trails off, noticing Debbie's spacey expression. She just smirks half-heartedly in the other woman's direction, pulling Debbie back to the present. 

"Sorry," Lou says, a somewhat sheepish tone which has Debbie's eyes raising to the ceiling. "Didn't mean to bore you."

"No," Debbie quickly corrects her, "I wasn't bored… it was just… unexpected."

Lou snorts at that, laughing as she turns her attention back to the road. "Did you expect me to be as dumb as your brother?"

"Hey," Debbie grumbles, looking away. "Danny's strengths were in… other things."

Lou can't resist grinning again. "Getting himself thrown in prison--yes, a wonderful trait."

"Why didn't you?" Debbie asks suddenly, ignoring Lou's jab. "Continue your passion, I mean. You sound like you know a lot."

Lou winces slightly at that and Debbie almost feels guilty. "Sorry, you don't have to--"

"There's not a lot of time for learning when you're the prodigal daughter of one of the world's most renowned criminals," Lou sighs as she grips the steering wheel tighter. "Besides, science and math don't really fit in to the world of thievery and murder, or not to the extent you'd hope."

"Murder?" Debbie echoes, brows raising. "Wait… have you…"

Lou doesn't reply, and instead she looks out the window with a hardened gaze. "Just read the instructions, Debbie. We're almost there."

Debbie swallows nervously as she looks down at the paper. An unspoken tension raises between them, and Debbie hates how she can see Lou subtly lift the small bottle of Absolut to her lips and down a sip, before hiding it away in the inside pocket of her jacket. She wants to press further, to ask Lou to man the fuck up and answer the question, because Ocean's had one rule: no killing, not even the orchestration of death.

But then, after a beat, Lou speaks.

"In the world I grew up in," Lou whispers quietly, "I did what I had to, to survive. Morality doesn't exist among the desperate."

"Killing is never the answer," Debbie admonishes with a low growl. "Ocean's--"

"Don't kill," Lou says with a soft sigh, glancing over to Debbie with a half-hearted smile. "Why do you think I like your family, even if half of you have shit for brains? Recognizing that death extends beyond the victim is rare. We rob people, Debbie. We're hardly innocent, but we could be worse. Far, far worse." Another longing gaze takes over Lou's eyes, hidden behind the shade of her glasses as she turns back to the road.

"Besides," Lou sighs as she sighs, "you can't change the past. You can only learn from it."

"And you?" Debbie asks nervously, almost afraid of the answer. "What have you learned from your past?" Lou pulls off onto the exit, slowing the car down as she winds up to the main road. The entire time, Debbie watches her, waiting for any kind of response, but Lou's silence is telling. 

But then, as Lou rolls the car to a stop at the light, she barely whispers, "too much."

Debbie doesn't need to watch Lou to know she's gulping down another sip of vodka.

* * * 

They share a motel room just a few miles out from their marked casino.

Usually, Lou asks for separate ones, but since there was some birdwatching convention, the place was near sold out. 

"I don't bite," Debbie jokes as they settle into the small room with two twin beds. "And I don't snore… I think."

Lou looks less than convinced as she puts her suitcase on the side, running a hand through her hair as she sighs. Debbie rolls her eyes at how Lou looks up and checks for cameras or other security issues, before she flops down on one of the twin beds, tugging her boots off and neatly placing them at the foot of the bed. Debbie doesn't make a comment when Lou takes out a long-sleeved shirt and some sweats, before heading to the bathroom. She knows that Lou's more reserved, so it only makes sense that she's a little shy when it comes to changing in front of others.

When she returns, Lou reaches into the mini-bar for a whiskey before plopping down on her bed. 

"Goodnight, I guess?" Debbie asks, arching her brow. Lou just grunts something similar, and Debbie can only grin fondly.

But that night, when Debbie is startled awake from bloodcurdling screaming--followed by panting and hushed breaths--Debbie realizes that maybe she misread Lou's disappointment in the lack of separate rooms as a personal preference. Debbie pretends to be asleep as she hears Lou rustle around the room before the door opens and closes. When she's sure Lou's gone, Debbie sits up, swallowing thickly at the revelation.

Lou comes back early that morning with donuts and coffee, looking far worse for wear, but Debbie doesn't say a word.

"Good sleep?" Lou asks, but the question is loaded as she looks to Debbie with a burning gaze, daring her to ask something.

But Debbie doesn't fall prey to the bait, not again. So instead, she takes a donut and chews thoughtfully.

"Yeah," she mumbles through a mouthful of an old-fashioned glaze, "nothing better than bed bugs and broken coils."

There's a momentary pause, before Lou just flashes her a smirk and takes a bite of her own donut.

"Sure as hell beats the car, though, doesn't it?" Lou asks, winking. Debbie rolls her eyes as she sips at her coffee.

"Without a doubt," Debbie says, setting the cup down. "Now let's talk about tonight."

* * * 

The heist goes off with minimal problems.

Of course, Debbie had to practically learn how to deal blackjack overnight, so she had a rocky start. But Lou's calm voice in her ear prevented her from losing her grip. She also had to thank the partially-drunk patrons for being too oblivious to notice her small mistakes. And when she'd unbuttoned the top button on her collared shirt to display just the right amount of teasing cleavage, the men (and some women) were goners.

"Drunks and heathens," Lou mutters into her ear as she finishes up on a roulette wheel. "This place is their feeding ground."

"How primitive," Debbie grumbles under her breath as she deals another hand. "When are you getting here?" 

"Soon," Lou replies, tipping her glass nonchalantly in the other woman's direction from across the casino hall. "Let me work my magic."

And what magic that is.

Lou is suave as she flirts her way to the top tier table, showcasing her skills without giving herself away. Debbie can hardly believe Lou's ability to conduct card-counting while under the influence of alcohol and the gaze of a million different security cameras. She's watched by some of the security, but none dare approach her as she counter-balances her wins and losses. She has one arm loosely wrapped around a nameless brunette sitting on her lap, whispering to her in a low voice to entice the other men into garnering her attention. Only one of them seems put off by the blatant flirting going on between the two women. He's old enough to be their great grandfather, and Debbie wants to throttle him. 

But, honestly, when Lou nips at the brunette's bare shoulder, Debbie grimaces alongside him.

 _That makes two of us who are uncomfortable,_ Debbie thinks to herself as the woman's hands teasingly play with Lou's collar. Debbie keeps calm, but there's an unreasonable amount of jealousy which rises in her gut, bubbling up her throat and making her tongue twist in her mouth.

"What should I bet?" Lou mumbles, her face practically in the woman's tits by now. "All-in?"

Debbie raises her brow. Lou had only been playing bigger bets, but never all-in. She tries to make eye-contact with Lou, but the other woman finds her whiskey-sour and drains it confidently, ignoring Debbie's concerned expression. Lou flicks her fingers at a passing waiter, who takes her glass and promises to return with another one. The remaining players gasp slightly after a delayed pause (probably due to the alcohol impairment, no doubt). They're intimidated, but also still vested in winning Lou's interest for the night. The brunette on her lap plays with the jangly necklace dipping into Lou's neckline, playing with the jewels before leaning in to place a teasing bite on her exposed pulse point.

Two of the more drunken patrons wolf-whistle, and Lou only basks in it as she grins in their direction.

"All-in it is, then."

 _You better be fucking right_ , Debbie thinks to herself as she watches the waiter return with another whiskey-sour and an extra shot for the brunette. _If you lose this because you were too drunk to count properly, I'm personally going to kill you._  When Lou sets the glass down and pierces her with an electric blue gaze, Debbie swallows nervously. Lou gestures lazily to the cards in Debbie's hands, smirking. Debbie has to once again resist rolling her eyes as the others begrudgingly put in their chips, not wanting to be ousted by Lou. 

"Well then," Lou chuckles as she fingers the rim of her glass. "What's the hold up?"

"Sorry," Debbie says, though with a bite that only Lou hears. "Just wanted to make sure you wanted to risk it all."

"What's life without a little risk sometimes, darling?" Lou asks drearily, glancing back to the brunette. "Right, Justice?"

"It's _Justine_ ," the brunette giggles annoyingly. "But for you, I'd be anything."

Debbie almost vomits in her mouth as she shakes her head and reaches for the cards. "Alright, here we go then."

But then, Debbie reveals the cards and the whole room goes quiet.

"Royal Flush," Debbie announces with awe, not even bothering to hold back the shock in her voice. "You win."

Lou just smirks proudly before reaching out to gather some of the chips. She hands a small stack to Justine.

"I don't think I can carry all these over to the cash-out," Lou hums flirtatiously, "mind helping me out, sweetheart?"

Justine just smiles and nods, holding the small stack of chips (probably ten grand, by the looks of it) before Lou snatches up the rest neatly. She bids farewell to the disappointed (and now broke) table of gentlemen still in utter shock at Lou's win, before she saunters back to the cash-out.

Meanwhile, Debbie just looks at the cards, wondering what the fuck just happened.

* * * 

"Five-hundred thousand dollars," Debbie gasps as she finishes recounting the cash. "That's half a million, Lou."

Lou sits on the windowsill of their hotel room, overlooking the boardwalk as she smokes a Marlboro. In her free hand is a tumbler of scotch, neat, with a single orange peel. At her realization, Lou turns her head and winks in her direction. "Good to know you can do math, Ocean."

"Shut up," Debbie chuckles airily, still shaking that they'd pulled off a heist so big with only the two of them. Lou takes a final drag of the cigarette before stumping it in the ashtray. She walks over to where Debbie is sitting in front of the suitcase, before she reaches under the bed for a small briefcase. Debbie eyes it curiously, cocking her head as she looks up to Lou with a burning question she somehow cannot voice.

"Did you honestly think that we were only robbing those rich fuckers _on_ the table?" Lou asks as she opens the briefcase to reveal an assortment of wallets, watches, and various expensive items. "Sometimes, the distraction is the main event." Debbie frowns, reaching forward for a watch.

"But… how?"

"Did you honestly think Justine was just some dumb brunette?" Lou laughs as she leans back on the bed. "Her real name's Tess. She's, well she _was_ Danny's person, but then the whole prison thing happened. Would've have thought you recognized her under the wig and make-up."

"I never met her," Debbie says quietly, feeling left out. "Danny mentioned her a few times, but I never got a change to actually meet her."

"You'd like her," Lou says as she sets the briefcase aside and takes a swig. "Got that whole morality thing you love so much."

Debbie gives her a pointed look. "Is it really too much to want to be a nice criminal, Lou?"

"Sounds like a juxtaposition to me," Lou counters, settling down on the bed. "Oxymoron. A _just_ criminal? Doesn't work."

When Debbie doesn't reply, Lou just sighs and waves to the briefcase. "Look in that sleeve."

Debbie hesitates a moment, but when Lou looks at her, deadpan, she relents. Reaching inside, she pulls out a piece of paper with some names and faces on them. She frowns, realizing that the men on the paper are the same men who were sitting on the table at the end of the heist.

"Robert Sheers is a corporate scumbag who donates half his proceedings to gay conversion camps in the deep south," Lou says as she sets her glass down so she can tuck her gangly legs underneath her. "Damian Rockwell has engaged in human trafficking and dog-fighting. Leslie Burkes is trying to buy out a senator to defund Planned Parenthood and to make abortions illegal. Do you want me to continue?" Debbie swallows, looking over the list. She recognizes the first one, Robert, as the one who had been passing dirty looks in Lou's direction the whole night.

"How did you know they were there?" Debbie asks, looking up to Lou. "Anyone could've played at that table."

"A good con-woman doesn't reveal her secrets," Lou shrugs, "but if you _should_ know, I did my research."

Debbie waits a moment, before her lips curl up into a warm smile. "So you do have a moral compass, after all."

Lou blushes at that, and the sight of Lou being flustered ignites a deeper fire within Debbie. "I wouldn't call it a compass. It's more like a tacky tourist using the North Star to navigate their way back home." The answer isn't what Debbie expects, but at the same time, it isn't surprising.

"You put yourself down too much," Debbie says as she sets the sheet aside so she can crawl up the bed next to Lou. "You're a good person, Lou." Debbie hates the flash of uncertainty and disbelief which washes over Lou's soft blue eyes, but before she can voice her disagreement, Lou sighs and takes another drink. Debbie just looks away, knowing the moment is gone. She pulls her knees up to her chest and eyes the stolen goods.

"You did good," Lou says after some time, "for a major heist. You did good, Ocean. Danny'd be proud of you."

There's something almost longing in Lou's voice, and Debbie glances over to see Lou staring out the window with an almost lost gaze.

"He was right to choose you to be my partner," Debbie admits quietly. "You're more than what you are on the surface."

Lou snorts at that, laughing as she looks back to Debbie, the mirth returning to her eyes. "You think so, princess?"

Debbie rolls her eyes fondly. "Don't make me regret complimenting you, Lou."

"I quite like it," Lou hums as she takes another sip of her drink. "Tell me more, Ocean."

"You're an idiot."

"A _sexy_ idiot," Lou corrects, "I'll take it."

Debbie can't help herself as she smiles, her head naturally leaning down to place itself on Lou's albeit slightly boney shoulder. Growing up with Danny, she'd grown accustomed to being touched and touching others. Their family was big on physical affection, on hugs and hair-tousles. Her father always swooped her on her shoulders when she was little, and her mother would always kiss the top of her head. Touching was natural.

But clearly it wasn't natural to Lou, if the tensing of her muscles was anything to go by.

"What are you doing?" Lou asks, wariness creeping into her tone as Debbie quickly removes her head. "I don't fuck my partners."

"Wow," Debbie mutters as she reels back, slightly hurt. "Crass much? I didn't want to fuck you, I just was tired."

"Yeah, well, I don't like touching. I don't do _that_ ," Lou growls the words defensively as she practically leaps off the bed and takes her place by the window sill. Debbie frowns, but doesn't push. She's seen Lou cocky and arrogant, cool and suave, but never so agitated and… afraid?

"Got it," Debbie just says instead, her voice cracking. "Loud and clear, Lou. I won't touch you."

But then, just when Debbie expects Lou to lash out, she watches as the taller woman's shoulders slump instead.

"Sorry," Lou mumbles, still not turning around from where her back is facing Debbie. "I just… I'm a loner, okay? This is new to me."

"Mentoring delinquents?" Debbie asks, glad to break the tension when Lou chuckles slightly. "Good to know Danny had great judgement."

"I'm adaptive," Lou says with another shrug, confidence returning back to her voice. "Fits my profession."

They both fall into another lapse of silence before Lou clears her throat and slowly makes her way back over to the bed. She lowers herself down on the corner, still maintaining a distance. Debbie waits patiently, lets Lou take her own time to adjust. After some time, Lou looks to her glass.

"I go by Lou Miller," Lou says quietly, and Debbie's heart stutters in her chest. "But that's not my real name."

Debbie waits, not wanting to interrupt the rare moment of Lou shedding some light on her past. Lou takes a deep breath before she turns, still not making eye-contact with Debbie as she fingers the rim of the glass. Debbie can see that Lou's hands are shaking, and it terrifies her.

"My birth name was Lena Sokolov," Lou says as she finally looks up, blue eyes piercing Debbie's own. "My father is--"

"Viktor Sokolov," Debbie gasps. "Your father is the face of one of the worlds' most dangerous terrorist organizations." Lou winces, but doesn't react as Debbie reflexively pulls away, pressing herself up against the backboard of the bed. "He's not just some criminal, Lou. He's a terrorist. He's tortured and killed people--innocent people! I mean, the guy is on every international wanted list. He's not just bad news, he's--"

"I know," Lou mumbles as she looks to her lap. Debbie just shakes her head, still in shock.

"He's a genocidal psychopath," Debbie continues to ramble nervously. "He's bombed cities and towns just for the hell of it--"

"I know," Lou grits out, "Come on Debbie, that's enough."

But Debbie can't stop as she continues to rake her mind through the various textbooks she remembers from school. "The reports would always talk about how he raped so many women, fathered so many children, but if they didn't live up to his standards he would just _murder_ them."

"I _know_!" Lou practically roars, standing from where she'd been sitting, fire in her eyes. "I don't need a history lesson, _Deborah_."

Debbie startles, her eyes widening as she finally realizes just _who_ Lou is.

"You're her, aren't you?" Debbie asks, wide-eyed and afraid. "You're child that survived. The one that went missing."

Lou turns back to the fridge, her hands shaking violently as she ditches the glass and grabs the whole bottle of scotch instead. Debbie watches, numb, as Lou takes a long gulp before wiping her mouth. She notices the shaking reduce to trembling, and it all makes sense now. 

"You said you had a brother," Debbie breaks the silence and hates the way Lou tenses. "No one ever mentioned a brother…"

"Because no one knew," Lou says, still not looking at Debbie. "After Father saw what he could do with me, he thought he'd be able to create another one. He…" Lou cuts herself off, closing her eyes and tensing her shoulders even tighter as she takes another drink of the bitter liquid.

"He raped my mother until she became pregnant again," Lou continues quietly, her hand gripping the neck of the bottle tighter as she looks away. "Made me watch as he did it because he wanted me to know what true power looked like. He locked her in a cell, made sure she was fit enough to carry the child, but she died during childbirth. My brother survived, but he was weak. Premature and riddled with health issues." 

Lou takes a long sip of the drink before she slumps down on the bed. "Before Father came down to kill him, I snuck out and took him to a nearby hospital, told them his name was Harold Miller and that his mother was dead. They didn't ask questions, or rather, I didn't let them. I held him one last time, just to remember his face, and then I left him there and never looked back." Lou's voice is strained as she drinks again.

"I told Father that he died," Lou says, "and that I burned his body alongside Mother's. But he knew I was lying."

The silence which falls over them is suffocating, and Debbie can't help herself as she asks, "then what happened?"

Lou doesn't reply. Instead, she just takes another drink before standing up, albeit on wobbly feet. Debbie wants to move, but she's frozen to her spot, staring at Lou's hunched back as she reaches for her jacket and slips it on. Lou takes another sip of the scotch before setting the bottle down. She slips on her boots and zips up the jacket, heading for the door. Debbie doesn't stop her, but is shocked when Lou pauses briefly.

"You did good today," Lou says softly, her eyes trained on the floor. "We'll leave by tomorrow afternoon, to not raise suspicions."

"Lou," Debbie croaks her name, tears welling in her eyes. "I--"

"Goodnight Debbie," Lou whispers as she opens the door before leaving without another word.

But it's not a goodnight, not when Debbie lays awake with the lights on, contemplating their conversation.

It's not even a good morning, when Lou walks in the next day still drunk and haggard, and Debbie is lost for words.

Debbie drives them back up the coast towards New York, stopping twice to let Lou hurl her guts out on the highway. Their car ride is silent and heavy with tension. Lou keeps drinking despite working off her lingering drunkenness or hangover, or maybe a mix of both. Debbie doesn't have the gall to tell her to stop, because she finally understands. If she'd seen what Lou's seen, she'd be at the bottom of a bottle, too.

Danny had once told her the truth is overrated, that sometimes ignorance truly is bliss.

In that moment, as she looks to Lou's glazed expression, Debbie wishes she'd listened to him more.

* * * 

Things are frosty for awhile before they finally go back to their old ways.

A few months later, Lou and Debbie rent a small two-bedroom apartment with their savings. It's nothing fancy; Lou always said that saving is more rewarding that cons, and that one day it will come in handy. Debbie hardly minds; she'd live under a tarp if it meant staying with Lou.

Her feelings for Lou have changed drastically since their post-heist discussion. Underneath that tough exterior, Lou is a genuine person who has a good heart--Danny was right about that. Lou cared more than she let on, or dared anyone except Debbie to see. It was slow, but it was progress. Debbie was the perfect counter to Lou's harder, calloused side. They worked well together, not only as partners but as best friends.

She learns little things about Lou, the more time they spend together.

First, Lou's an excellent cook. Though she'd be caught dead before anyone noticed, Lou loved watching cooking shows and experimenting. Debbie would come home to wonderful smells from the kitchen, paired with Lou in a goofy "kiss the chef" apron. And she would, with confirmed consent, place a soft kiss on Lou's cheek before taking a bite of whatever her partner had diligently cooked up for her, and moan with delight.

Second, Lou loves libraries. When they weren't planning cons or running errands, Lou would take them into a quiet corner and pour over the greats--Dickens, Austen, Orwell, the list went on. Debbie would read along with her, but her attention wouldn't be on those words, but on the rapt interest and sheer focus in Lou's eyes as she delved into the books without a care in the world. If it were any other person, Debbie would have teased them, but when she sees the way Lou tucks her knees to her chest and flips the pages with a gentle hum, she knows Lou needs this.

Third, Lou has a soft spot for kids. When they're strolling through a park one day, a little boy falls down and scrapes his knee. Lou's there before his baby-sitter can reach, whispering soft words and gently rubbing his back. Debbie, one who had never even considered having little buggers before, is mesmerized as Lou procures a coin from behind his ears, causing the boy to light up with a laugh so infectious even Lou chimes along. When the baby-sitter can't thank her enough, Lou just rubs her shoulder and offers her a crisp fifty, and tells her to treat them both.

"You're good with them," Debbie tells her when they get back to their apartment. "Kids, I mean. I couldn't handle the little devils."

Lou just shrugs, not really making an effort to maintain eye-contact. "I wouldn't know. Wasn't really the best kid, growing up."

Debbie doesn't press further. She's learned her lesson from last time, of not poking her nose where it doesn't belong.

"I was a terror," Debbie offers instead, shrugging off her coat onto one of the chairs. "I ate my mother's flowers and stole our neighbour's cat."

That brings a chuckle out of Lou, the sweetest sound Debbie's sure she's ever heard. "I don't see the difference now, Deborah."

"Hey," Debbie says as she arches her brow. "Derek Jeter Junior loves me."

"Oh I'm sure that's _totally_ it," Lou smiles as she sprawls onto the couch, looking towards an empty tuna tin near the door. "Not that you feed him more than he needs, or anything." Debbie takes a seat next to her, grumbling as Lou continues to smirk knowingly in her direction.

Debbie gasps, admonished she'd suggest such a thing. "He's not _fat_ , Lou."

"Mrs. Jenkins literally asked me today if male cats could get pregnant."

Debbie rolls her eyes as Lou bursts into another laugh before procuring her flask from her inside jacket pocket. Debbie watches as Lou takes a long drink before leaning her head back and closing her eyes. It hits her then, that if Lou were to be any animal, she'd be a cat. Slow to warm up to you, but once you've earned their trust, they're loyal and unguarded. Lou has grown from not wanting to be touched to sitting closer to Debbie. Somedays, if Lou's a bit more tipsy, she'll allow Debbie to play with her fingers, and on even bolder days, she'll loosely wrap her arm around Debbie's shoulders and pull her close enough for the Ocean to smell the nicotine and spicy cologne off her clothes.

"I'm glad you tried to steal my watch," Lou says after some time, gazing over at her fondly. Debbie just sighs and inches closer, gaging Lou's reaction. When Lou grunts and extends her arm out, Debbie burrows into her side, hiding her smile in the lapel of Lou's worn leather jacket.

"I'm glad Danny made me embarrass myself in front of him," Debbie mumbles into the fabric. "I'm… I'm glad I have you, Lou."

There's a hitch in Lou's breath before the hand around her shoulder squeezes ever so slightly. 

"I'm glad I have you too, Debs."

* * * 

They get more touchy-feely as the time passes.

Debbie still asks Lou for consent before touching her, but Lou doesn't say no as often as she once used to. Lou, on the other hand, will sprawl on the couch like an overgrown human-feline hybrid, stretching out her gangly limbs and gazing at Debbie with this fond, almost shy expression. It's uncharacteristic, at first, to see a specimen as impenetrable as Lou to appear so innocent and pure, excited at the prospect of being touched in such a loving way. She's touch-starved by every sense of the word, and it only draws Debbie into her even further than before.

It's the little things, like how Lou will inch her way closer, so their shoulders touch, before tapping on Debbie's knuckles until the other woman fondly rolls her eyes and wraps her arms around Lou's gangly form. And Lou, for all of her confidence and swagger, burrows like a small child seeking comfort. Debbie will hold her tight against her chest while they're watching TV, her fingers gently untangling the knots in Lou's hair.

Some nights, she'll press a kiss to Lou's forehead, and she swears she'll hear Lou purr against her in joy.

On those nights, Debbie just falls harder and deeper in love.

Tonight, Lou is sprawled atop her, head on her chest and arms around her waist. Debbie smiles down at her. "You're heavy, you know."

Lou makes some sort of grunting noise before she mutters, "don't see you moving me off."

"Don't think I could, Rocky. I'm not as strong as you, remember?"

"Mm," Lou mumbles as she nuzzles deeper into Debbie's chest. "I'd move… but you're comfy."

Debbie smiles at the quiet yawn which parts Lou's lips. "You're adorable."

"I could beat the shit out of you."

Debbie just laughs at that, leaning down to kiss Lou's forehead lovingly.

"You could," Debbie agrees as Lou's arms tighten around her waist. "But it doesn't make you being adorable any less true."

Lou looks up to Debbie, her eyes flitting down to her lips. Debbie's breath hitches as she notices where Lou is looking and she gulps nervously, instinctually leaning forward as Lou adjusts herself on the couch. One of Debbie's hands gently cups Lou's cheek, her thumb grazing over her the sharp angles of Lou's jawline. There's a slight haze in Lou's eyes, there always is considering Lou's always drinking some concoction.

"What are we doing?" Debbie asks as Lou licks her lips. "Lou?"

"I want to kiss you," Lou says, but there is a hesitance to her voice. Debbie swallows again, nodding.

" _But_?"

This time, Lou is the one to swallow thickly as she looks to Debbie's eyes now. "But I don't want to fuck this up."

"Who says you will?" Debbie asks, leaning forward just the slightest bit. " _Risk_ it, Lou."

"You're not a con," Lou tells her adamantly, her tone biting. "You're more than that, Debbie."

Debbie just looks back to Lou's lips, leaning forward so they're just brushing--just barely.

"Prove it, Miller."

When their lips connect, Debbie's breath is stolen from her lips. Lou is similarly affected, if the small gasp she emits is anything to go by. Lou slots between Debbie's thighs and grinds down ever-so-slightly, but enough for Debbie to feel it everywhere. Lou's free hand is on the other side of Debbie's head, holding her weight up as she kisses her deeper. Debbie parts her lips and changes the angle, allowing their tongues to meet. For all of her confidence and swagger, Lou is tender and gentle as she kisses, as if she's scared of breaking Debbie into tiny slivers.

Debbie reaches up and tangles her hands in Lou's hair, pulling their lips apart for a moment so she can stare in those blue eyes.

Blue eyes, for the first time Debbie's ever seen them, are clear as the sky.

"I want you," Debbie whispers as she wraps one of her legs over Lou's hip. "I _need_ you, Lou."

Lou is hesitant at first before she leans down to press a soft, sweet kiss on Debbie's lips. It starts out slow, and Debbie's sure that it was meant to slow down the moment, but soon enough they're lost in the moment and Debbie's shirt is cascaded to the far end of the couch while Lou's nimble fingers pry open her jeans button and slide her zipper down. Debbie gasps into Lou's lips as those slender digits slide into her pants, tapping over the wet fabric of her panties. The motion makes both of them shudder and pause, Lou's head burying itself into her neck.

"Fuck," Lou mutters into her skin as she lightly sweeps a line to the fabric covering Debbie's clit. "You're soaked, Deb."

Debbie hisses at the words, grinding her hips upwards as Lou kisses down her neck. "All for you, baby."

Lou looks into her eyes once again, searching for any sign of hesitance. "You're sure?"

Debbie nods, smiling as tears well in her eyes. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this, Lou."

Lou swallows nervously and offers her a soft smile. "Well, we can't have that anymore, can we?"

Before Debbie can bite out a teasing remark, Lou's fingers slip under her panties and her calloused index finger paints gentle circles around her clit. Debbie bucks upwards at the first touch as Lou's head returns to place bite after bite into Debbie's neck and chest. Lou works her up slowly, drawing out her arousal like she's always known Debbie's body. Eventually, Debbie grows impatient, and Lou kisses her lips in acknowledgement. Two fingers slowly enter, allowing Debbie's body to adjust to the girth before she seats herself inside fully.

"Fuck," Debbie huffs out between breaths, "fuck, that's… wow…"

"Good?" Lou hums into her neck, smirking. Debbie nods, clenching lightly at Lou's hair.

"Amazing."

"Good," Lou murmurs as she leans back to reattach their lips. "Hold onto me, baby."

But Debbie doesn't just hold on to Lou as those fingers start a steady, strong rhythm.

No, Debbie _clutches_ onto Lou like a lifeline until she's riding the waves of pleasure to her well-waited orgasm. It's quicker than she'd expected, but it's just as satisfying as all of the imagined scenarios she's worked herself up to. Lou carries her through it, ever stalwart and loyal. She doesn't tease about the short period of time it took to get to the climax. Instead, Lou whispers sweet nothings through the aftershocks. Debbie closes her eyes, allowing herself to focus on the sultry drawl of Lou's voice, the thickened accent in the light of the situation and the lust.

The moment is peaceful, it's a well-needed respite.

And it's quickly shattered the moment Debbie reaches for the hem of Lou's shirt.

"Wait," Lou says quickly, reeling backwards fast enough to give Debbie whiplash. "I… I don't think…"

"Lou," Debbie whispers quietly. "I want to see you."

"No," Lou blurts out, arms defensively wrapping around her waist as she inches backwards nervously. "I… I can't."

"Hey," Debbie hums as she reaches out and takes Lou's cheeks into her palms. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything if you're not ready."

"It's not that," Lou says, avoiding Debbie's gaze. "It's… just…"

"Lou," Debbie says, drawing Lou's eyes back to her own eyes. "It's okay. We can just sleep, if you want. It's okay if you don't."

Lou still looks seconds from darting away from her like an animal from a flame, and Debbie's heart is threatening to beat out of her chest. She has no idea what has caused the panic to suddenly appear in those crystal blue eyes, but she wants it to go away as soon as possible. Lou just maneuvers her way off Debbie's lap before heading to the kitchen. She hears rummaging, but then Lou returns with a glass of bourbon.

Debbie eyes the glass, and then Lou, as half it is downed in one generous sip. Lou almost sighs in relief as she slumps back down on the couch. Debbie hates that it's the opposite end, as if Lou is erecting an invisible wall between the two of them. As much as she is burning to ask questions, she doesn't ask them because this is a delicate moment and she doesn't want to trigger Lou with anything she's unprepared for.

"Sorry," Lou says after awhile, fingering the rim. "I just… I don't think I can… do _that_."

"That's okay," Debbie assures her as she reaches over for her shirt and slips it back on. "It's okay if you're never ready too, Lou."

"You can't give that up for me," Lou snorts, shaking her head. "Besides, I'm not someone you should be chasing, Debs."

"We're still partners, right?" Debbie asks, ignoring Lou's statement. Lou looks over at her, that hazy gaze returning to her eyes.

"Always," Lou says, smiling half-heartedly as she nods. "You're my ride or die, Deb."

"Then we're good," Debbie says, but she knows it's far from the truth. Lou knows it, too, but won't voice it. "This never happened, Lou."

"Debbie," Lou says quietly, "you don't have to do that."

More than anything, that is what hurts Debbie the most. She looks to Lou, feeling stupid that she'd expected Lou to fight back, to tell her that she never wants to forget this night, even if it didn't end in the way they'd both initially wanted. Instead, she finds Lou staring at her pleadingly. 

"We're good," Debbie repeats, voice hoarse as she offers a fake smile she's sure Lou reads right through. "It's okay, Lou."

But it isn't.

It really, honestly, fucking, _isn't_.

* * *

Despite the unspoken incident, over their time spent together, Debbie's confidence grows as a function of Lou's encouragement.

Her job plans become more detailed, and soon enough, even Lou is taken aback by her ability to conjure up these ideas. Their roles switch, with Debbie taking the lead and Lou being her right-hand woman. They run a real-estate con in three states which garners them enough money to last them a life-time, but Debbie is addicted to the feeling of taking, of winning. She's making a name for herself, something beyond Ocean.

Lou is proud of her, but as the months bleed into years, Debbie notices her getting more tired.

Lou doesn't second-guess her, nor does she ask Debbie to reconsider. She's still as steadfast and stalwart as she's always been-- _loyal_ , as Danny had once said--but she's less involved than she used to be. Debbie notices the bottles in their cabinet starting to accumulate more and at a faster rate than ever before. Debbie tries not to dwell on the fact that she can't remember a time when Lou was fully sober, without a drop of potent liquid in her system. She knows if she thinks about it, she'll hate the answer, and if she hates the answer, her momentum will falter.

Lou is okay. Debbie is okay.

They're successful.

And for Debbie, that's all that matters for now.

(But it shouldn't be, and deep down, it _isn't_ ).

* * * 

Of all the years they've spent together, April is always an especially hard month for both of them.

Lou is always more distant, choosing to spend her time drinking and holing herself up in her room all day. Debbie doesn't push, despite the lines between friends and something _more_ blurring with each day that passes. Whatever menial conversation Debbie tries to start is met with a cold front and one-worded answers. Debbie also notices the growing bags under Lou's eyes, the quiet exhaustion in those baby blue eyes.

"You okay?" Debbie asks one day, unable to skirt around this discomfort any longer. "I know you're the brooding type, but you're more broody than usual, Lou." If she's heard her, Lou doesn't show it. Debbie waits patiently, twirling her fork in her carbonara as she waits for some reply.

But Lou is silent, the only response she gives is the slow bobbing of her throat as she downs the rest of her wine.

Debbie swallows, the pain palpable as she takes in the way Lou's entire body seems to hunch over like she's carrying a ton of bricks on her shoulders--Atlas, holding the Heavens on his back on the edge of Earth. Debbie takes a breath and takes a bite, but her food has no taste. 

"I'll be back," Lou says quietly as she stands, slowly pushing her chair in. "Don't wait up for me."

Debbie hardly gets a word in before Lou's out the door without a second glance. 

She looks to Lou's untouched plate and closes her eyes tiredly. Eventually, she musters up the courage to clean up. She does the dishes in silence, her mind worrying over her partner as she keeps picturing those hazy blue eyes looking at nowhere in particular. After she's done, she sits on the couch, playing re-runs of _Jeopardy_ as she waits for Lou to come back. But even she tires out, and soon enough she falls asleep.

Until at four in the morning, Lou comes back and startles her awake.

"Mm," Debbie mumbles as she blinks the sleep from her eyes. "Lou?"

"Debbie?" Lou asks, almost shocked to see Debbie on the couch. "What are you doing up?"

"Was worried," Debbie slurs sleepily, nodding off on the couch again. "Didn't know… where you were…"

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry. Come on," Lou hums softly as she walks over and gently reaches under Debbie's legs to hoist her up. Naturally, Debbie's head lolls into the comforting strength of Lou's chest. Lou just cradles her closer as she walks up the steps determinedly. Lou enters Debbie's room and sets her down on the mattress, pulling back the blankets and adjusting her pillow so Debbie can comfortably snuggle into the sheets.

"Lou?" Debbie asks as she reaches out to hold Lou's wrist. "Will you… stay?"

Lou tenses but Debbie's too tired to be aware of the weight of her words. "Debbie?"

"Stay," Debbie murmurs, already sliding back into unconsciousness. "Stay, Lou."

Parts of Debbie wishes she was more awake, that she had remembered more, because the next morning she wakes up alone, and Lou is nowhere to be seen once again. Debbie stumbles out of the bed and after using the bathroom, shuffles into the hallway to see Lou's door open. She is about to head for the stairs when she notices a pair of pants on the floor near the bedroom door. Realizing that Lou must be down in the basement doing the laundry, she walks over and picks up the discarded pants before padding into Lou's room to set them on her chair.

Lou is cleaner one between the two of them, so when she sees that Lou's bed is undone and messy, she's concerned.

She enters the room and slowly starts doing Lou's bed. She tucks the sheets in the way Lou likes it, before draping the comforter over top. She's about to leave when she notices one of Lou's drawers open slightly. Frowning, Debbie pulls it open slowly, her jaw dropping at the various orange pill bottles organized in neat rows inside the drawer. Debbie pulls one out and inspects the label, her heart thumping harder.

"Oxycodone," she mutters, before reaching in and grabbing another bottle. "Codeine? Morphine? Lou… what the hell?"

Painkillers. Every assortment under the sun was there in that drawer. Debbie sets it all back properly, gulping as she nervously makes her way back to the door. Why did Lou need so many different types of painkillers? How much pain was she in? Was it chronic, or something more? More importantly, was she mixing the drugs with the alcohol? Of all the times she's seen Lou drink, she struggles to remember if she had pills, too.

"What are you doing?" 

Debbie looks up at the accusation in Lou's voice as she stands in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes piercing through her.

"Your pants were on the ground," Debbie says, unable to keep her voice from trembling in fear. "Lou, I swear I wasn't snooping--"

"I'm not mad," Lou says, almost confusedly. "Wait, did you think I was mad?"

Debbie doesn't reply, and she kicks herself at the way Lou's face falls. "Oh," Lou whispers, "you're scared of me."

"No," Debbie blurts out, tears welling in her eyes. "It's just, you've been more distant this month, Lou. I'm just worried."

Lou doesn't seem to buy it, even if it is partially the truth. Debbie winces when Lou takes a step back, rubbing her neck as she looks away. Debbie wants to move, to stumble forward and comfort Lou, to erase the pain which clearly festers within this shell of a woman, but she can't.

"Sorry," Lou mumbles softly, "I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

"I just want you to be okay," Debbie whispers softly, "please, Lou. You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

But it's a question fallen on deaf ears when Lou just nods aimlessly--and Debbie hates that she knows it, but it's the truth.

Part of her wonders if Lou could ever be okay.

* * * 

A few years later, when they're casing a joint on Broadway, they meet Tammy.

She's a great fence, a bit too bubbly and eccentric, but she balances out their dynamic. Lou is wary at first, slow to trust, but eventually she gives the younger woman the benefit of the doubt. Debbie falls for her like she'd once fallen for Lou, before the truth spilled out and destroyed the barely-holding bridges between them. Tammy is sweet and soft, doting and caring, not callous and cold like Lou. It's refreshing and nice.

And unlike Lou, what she feels for Tammy is reciprocal.

They go on a date after their first major job together, a few hundred thousand split between them. It's sweet and Debbie finds Tammy endearing. She's got a different sense of humour, and her smile is bright enough to light up the whole room. When Debbie tells Lou about it, the blonde is indifferent at first, but when Debbie makes inferences that it might be more than just something casual, Lou reluctantly agrees to getting to know Tammy better. They plan an outing to the local bowling alley (Debbie's idea, since she didn't like bars as much as Lou did), where Debbie cons the owner into giving them free drinks and food, while Tammy robs the office when he's distracted by Lou's charm.

"Strike!" Debbie whoops as she glides her way back over from the lane with a smirk. "Eat _that_ , Miller."

Lou only rolls her eyes and drinks more of her beer. "It's all about angles, Debbie. Not luck."

"Oh yeah, Ms. Angles? Let's see you get a spare when you've got _Gap-Tooth Sandy_ over there." Lou snorts and eases her way up, taking one last long swig before she grabs a ten-pound bowling ball and steps up to the lane. Debbie sprawls onto the couch next to Tammy, resting her head on the shorter woman's shoulder as they both watch Lou wind her arm back before throwing her wrist forward, snapping it to the side.

Debbie and Tammy's jaws both drop as the ball spins, teetering on the edge of the gutter, before it hits one bowling pin and sends the other one tumbling down. Lou places her hands on her hips and turns around, a shit-eating grin curling her lips as she glances up at the scoreboard.

"I'm sorry, Debbie, is that another win for me?"

Before Debbie can even reply, fanfare breaks out and the three of them turn to see a less-than-enthused employee walking over with a ribbon and a piece of paper. Lou arches her brow, amused as the employee tiredly holds his hand out and informs her that she's the record scorer.

Debbie has to hold back her laughter as Lou is forced into taking a picture and signing a fake name on the record book, before the employee says she's won a free "bowl-again" coupon valid for a whole year. Lou takes it, unsure of what to do as she looks to Tammy and Debbie for guidance. Tammy does a lot more poorly than Debbie in holding back her laughter, because by the time the employee is gone, she's snorting.

"Lou Miller, esteemed lesbian and even more esteemed con-woman," Tammy teases, "the proud record-holder of _Rainbow Lanes_."

"I'll shove a rainbow up your lane," Lou grumbles, but she doesn't let go of the ribbon. "Alright then, should we get out of here?"

"Yeah," Debbie sighs happily as she leans into Tammy. "This was fun. We should hang out more, like this."

"I'm glad our delinquency lead to friendship," Tammy seconds with a chuckle. "You're not half bad, Lou."

Lou arches her brow in Tammy's direction before smirking. "I guess I can tolerate you, Tim-Tam."

"Tim-Tam?" Tammy guffaws. "I've never been called that before."

"Consider it a compliment," Lou says with a smile, "Tim-Tams are an Australian staple. Best biscuits you'd ever eat."

"As someone who actually enjoys Vegemite and Marmite, I'm not sure if I believe you."

Lou grunts as they make their way over to the counter to return their shoes. "You bloody Americans have no idea how to eat it, that's why."

"I don't _want_ to eat it," Tammy says with a gag, "I don't have fond memories of the last time you made me try it."

"I mean, if you want to smear it on there like Nutella, then it's not my fault you puked your guts up on the subway."

"Rude."

"I prefer honest."

"An honest criminal?" Tammy snorts as she hands her shoes back. "Not sure I've ever heard of one."

"Alright," Debbie sighs as she pulls Tammy into her arms and presses a kiss to her forehead. "Let's get something to eat, I'm starved."

Debbie barely catches the flash of sadness in Lou's gaze when Tammy kisses her on the lips. Debbie pulls away, dreamy and lost in Tammy's brown eyes as she inches closer to her girlfriend. Tammy's hand places itself on Debbie's stomach, her head naturally lolling to her shoulder.

"You wanna come, Lou?" Tammy asks, pecking Debbie's neck. Lou watches their interaction with a guarded expression, before smiling.

"Nah," Lou says, waving them off. "I'll catch up with you later. I gotta jet, anyways."

Debbie knows, from the slight flaring of Lou's nostril, that she's lying. But before she can question it, Lou grabs at her jacket and makes her way over to the door, offering one more jovial wave before she saunters out towards her Norton Commando. Tammy sighs in her arms, gripping tighter. Debbie tears her gaze away from where Lou rips out of the parking lot and zooms onto the main road, kicking up dust in her wake.

"Hey," Tammy whispers, low and seductive. "Want to get out of here?"

Debbie looks down to her, pushing thoughts of Lou out of her mind as she nods. 

"Yeah, let's go."

* * * 

Debbie and Tammy date for about three months Debbie brings her home.

She and Lou had moved to an apartment in Queen's, and Lou had been kind enough (or maybe drunk enough, Debbie isn't sure anymore) to give them the place while she went out. Something had changed in the last few months, and Lou's drinking had increased tenfold, but Debbie doesn't know what it is. Lou had never showed an interest in Debbie besides the night they never speak of, and that too, Debbie isn't sure if it was love or lust driving the other woman's actions. But with Tammy wedging herself between them, Debbie can't help but wonder if Lou felt abandoned.

Regardless, there's nothing Debbie can do unless Lou tells her something is the matter.

And Lou is a like a brick wall when it comes to anything even remotely related to feelings.

"This is quaint," Tammy says as she observes the smattering of political and new wave French art, littered amongst the random band posters on the walls. "It's like Banksy had a baby with Roger Waters." Debbie laughs at that, pulling a shy smile from Tammy's lips as they settle on the couch. Tammy takes the glass of wine Debbie hands her and takes a slow, tentative sip. She savours the taste and smirks over at Debbie.

"So, you and Lou?" Tammy cuts right to the chase, blunt but still gentle. "How long have you guys been a… whatever it is you are?"

"Partners," Debbie says, before clarifying, "not romantically. Just business. I don't think Lou's into that."

"You?" Tammy asks, arching her brow. Debbie flushes, shaking her head.

" _Romance_ ," Debbie corrects, "Lou's not the easiest person to talk to sometimes."

"But you're into her," Tammy contemplates, "aren't you?"

Debbie swallows and sets her own wine glass down. "I'm into _you_."

"You can be into multiple people, Debbie. Don't make this so high school. I'm not a home-wrecker," Tammy says, setting her glass down. "I don't mind casual sex, and I actually like you a lot, but I don't want to be a rift in your relationship, or potential relationship." Debbie looks at her, scratching at her head as she struggles to piece together what Tammy is implying. She takes a sip of her wine before setting it back down.

"I don't think anything will ever happen between me and Lou," Debbie admits quietly. Tammy digests her words and nods.

"I'd hope not," Tammy says, piquing Debbie's attention. "Not that Lou isn't a nice person. But Debbie… she's… you know…"

Debbie feels her insides churn protectively. "She's what, Tammy?"

Tammy just rolls her eyes, ignoring the scathing tone of Debbie's voice. "She's an _alcoholic_ , Debbie. Any relationship with her would be toxic. Hell, even your friendship, partnership--whatever the hell you call it--is toxic. In all our months together, I've never seen her sober."

"You don't know what she's been through," Debbie grits out, leaning back defensively. "You're walking a thin line, Tammy."

"Just like you do with Lou?" Tammy asks back, arching her brow. "She's a mess, Debbie. Honestly, you could do so much better."

"Fuck you," Debbie growls, tears stinging in her eyes. "Lou's been through _hell_ to get where she is now--"

"And that gives her an excuse to be an asshole?" Tammy counters. "We all have tragedies, Deb. Besides, she clearly doesn't like me."

At that, Debbie growls again, her hands clenching to fists at her side. " _I'm_ beginning to not like _you_ , Tammy."

"Debbie," Tammy sighs as she stands up, brushing her skirt. "I didn't come here for a fight. I like you. I like Lou, despite her faults. I just think that maybe you should consider talking to her about her drinking problem. It's not just for the heists, but for her sake too. Self-medication is not the answer, and if that's what she's telling you, then you're just reinforcing her bad habits. She needs to clean up or she'll ruin both of you."

"Stop," Debbie says, unable to stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

Tammy is about to open her mouth when the lock on the door clicks and Lou stumbles inside. Both Debbie and Tammy turn around to see Lou slump against one of the dressers before falling over with a pained groan. Tammy is the first one to reach her, nose turning up at the smell.

"Jesus," Tammy nearly gags as Lou turns over to reveal the vomit-stained shirt she's wearing. "You smell like a bar bathroom, Lou."

But when Debbie walks over, it's not the vomit she notices, but the black eye and busted lip. "What _happened_?"

"Don' worry," Lou slurs as she nods off, "just had… a… little disagreement."

Lou tries to stumble to her feet, but slips again. "Whoops," Lou giggles drunkenly. "Too fast."

"Easy," Debbie sighs, ignoring the pointed look from Tammy as the two of them hoist the gangly Australian to her feet. "Come on now, Lou. Let's get you into the shower." Lou just nods along, even though Debbie is sure that she's not heard a single word she's just said. It's terrifying, though Debbie won't admit it, the way Lou lurches and sways, completely gone to the world even though she's still barely conscious.

Lou's been drunk before, but she was always in control, nothing like this.

 _Never_ like this.

"Come on," Tammy says softly, reaching for the hem of Lou's shirt. "Let's get this off and washed, love."

Lou flinches at Tammy's touch, trying and failing to scramble away. Debbie's heart plunges when she sees the look of pure terror take over Lou's eyes. Even Tammy reels back, shocked at the response as Lou struggles to crawl away from the both of them, her shoulders trembling.

"Don't touch me," Lou snarls at them both, hands scrabbling against the floorboards. "Don't…"

"Lou," Debbie says as she kneels before her skittish partner. "It's me, baby. It's Debbie. You're safe. We're trying to help you, sweetheart."

The haze which had settled over Lou's field of vision clears at the sound of Debbie's voice, and despite her inebriation, Lou nods hesitantly. Tammy senses the need for privacy and quickly tells Debbie she'll set the bath up if she can get Lou undressed. Debbie silently thanks her as she nods before turning her attention back to her partner. Debbie hums a gentle tune, one of Lou's favourites--Stevie Nicks' _Wild Heart_ \--as she gently reaches again for the hem of Lou's shirt. She works slowly, making sure to keep her eyes on Lou's the entire time to maintain consent.

But when the shirt leaves Lou's frame, Debbie can't stop the gasp which escapes her lips.

A valley of scars and burn marks are scattered across Lou's chest, faded but no less painful. Debbie's heart is beating in her throat as Lou's head hangs in shame and embarrassment, her arms curling around her stomach where the marks are more prominent. Debbie forces herself to bury the burning questions as she helps Lou to her feet, trying not to let the ragged patches of Lou's skin threaten to overwhelm her. She helps Lou with her pants, unbuckling the belt and sliding the buttery leather free from the loopholes. Lou struggles to step out of her jeans, but eventually she's down to just her bra and boxer briefs. Her entire body is laden in scars, _too many scars_ , and Debbie has to hold back her anger at whoever hurt Lou. It all makes sense--the drinking, the aversion to touch, the slow trust--Lou has seen more pain than anyone ever should have to.

"I got it ready for you, all that you need to do is-- _oh_!"

Debbie looks up to see Tammy's horrified expression as she rakes her eyes over Lou, muttering a soft, "holy shit" under her breath.

"Tammy," Debbie snaps protectively, pulling Lou's barely conscious form closer to her chest. "The bath?"

"Yeah, yeah, come on. It's not too hot."

When they seat Lou in the bathtub and hose her down like some kind of farm animal, none of them speak. It's only later, when Lou finally passes out as Debbie finishes rinsing her hair, does Tammy give Debbie a sympathetic look. The two of them practically carry Lou over to the mattress before settling her in. Tammy goes downstairs to fetch a glass of water and an aspirin, before setting them down on the bedside drawer.

"She needs help," Tammy tells her, placing a bucket beside Lou on the ground. "Real help, Debbie. These jobs, they're not good for her."

"You don't know what she needs," Debbie says, still defensive, her mind replaying those images over and over again. "She's--"

"She's not fine," Tammy urges as she pulls Debbie out of the room. "Look at her, Debbie! She's the poster child for the system."

" _Tamara_ ," Debbie growls, shoving Tammy aside. "That's enough. Don't you dare say another word about her, I swear…"

"You're just reinforcing it," Tammy says with a shake of her head. "You're doing more harm than good, Debbie."

"Get out," Debbie all but snarls, her cheeks dampening with tears when Tammy doesn't move. "I said get out, goddammit!"

Tammy takes another breath before she sighs and takes a step back. Debbie watches, teary-eyed as Tammy descends the steps before gathering her jacket and making her way out the door. Debbie stares at the door long after Tammy's gone, the words echoing in her head non-stop.

When she returns to the room to see Lou vomiting into the bucket, a small part of her wonders if Tammy was right.

* * * 

The pattern continues for a few months, and then a few years.

Some days, Lou wouldn't even return home at all. On the days she was home and able to run jobs, it was back to the low-rate ones because Lou was too drunk to handle anything above rigging bingos and robbing department stores. Debbie notices it more after Tammy's pointed it out, and she realizes that all the momentum and success she's built up is slowly slipping, and soon enough, they're back at square one.

Tammy breaks up with her after three years together, saying that she's tired of the cons and wants more.

Truth be told, Debbie isn't even mad, because she gets it. She understands because she's been feeling the same. She wants that adrenalin back from when they stole half a million dollars from eight old white men in a casino in Atlantic City with nothing but Lou's quick brains and Debbie's dealing skills. She wants to go back to swindling rich homeowners into investing into non-existent show homes while Lou emptied their pockets. She wants to go back to when conning made her happy, when Lou wasn't a wreck, to when she was in love and whole and complete.

But maybe she never was happy or whole or complete.

And maybe Lou was never _not_ a wreck.

Tammy eventually introduces her to Theodore Berkin, an accountant at some tech company with a Ken-Doll smile and a collection of argyle sweaters to make her grandmother roll in her grave. But Teddy is sweet, and Debbie can see that even though they've only dated a few months, that he's head-over-heels in love with Tammy, and she can't help but be happy. Like Tammy, she always wanted more, but not in love. 

Weeks later, Tammy says she's leaving their crew. Lou doesn't seem to have a reaction, other than giving her a short, but sweet hug. Debbie watches as Tammy whispers something in Lou's ear before rubbing her arm, but Lou doesn't really react other than a shrug and a nod. The Australian retreats to the kitchen to give Tammy and Debbie some time alone, and Debbie ignores the pit in her stomach as Tammy eyes her.

"You deserve better," Tammy tells her, repeating the words she'd said years ago. "You're not her keeper. Remember that, Debbie."

"Tammy," Debbie sighs, rubbing her forehead. "She needs me. She's got nobody else."

"She survived before," Tammy says, looking over to where Lou is sitting at the table with a beer. "Doesn't mean she has to do it again, but it just means that maybe she shouldn't be surviving--but _living_ instead. There's a great in-patient place near Teddy's work. It's quiet. Discrete."

Debbie goes to argue when Tammy slips something into Debbie's pants' pocket with a grim smile. "Take care of yourself, Debbie."

"Gonna miss you Tam," Debbie hums as she wraps Tammy in her arms. "I'm sorry we didn't work out."

"It wasn't because of you," Tammy sighs as she rubs Debbie's back. "We just want different things, Debbie. That's okay."

"I don't even think I know what I want," Debbie chuckles in a watery voice. "Never did, I think."

Tammy pulls away before she looks back over to where Lou is staring at them, a glazed look in her eyes as she observes them.

"I think you do," Tammy whispers, not looking at Debbie. "But maybe you're too scared to admit it, right now."

* * * 

Two years later, when she's forty, Debbie gets her first taste of a mid-life crisis.

Danny and his crew had just pulled off the heist of the century, walking away with more money than they'd ever need. Meanwhile, Debbie is sitting at the dining table, counting out the bills from their latest bingo game with a frustrated growl. Lou's out, like always, doing God knows what God knows _where_ \--while she's left sorting out the finances. It feels stupidly domestic, and Debbie has never, ever wanted to a housewife.

"Wow, sis, hitting it big aren't you?" Danny tells her as he walks through their front door with a swing in his step and smirk on his face. "If you're tough on money, I can lend some to you--no interest." Debbie glares at him, letting him know silently that he should knock it off immediately.

"Jesus," Danny whistles lowly, settling in the chair beside her. "What's gotten into you, Deb?"

Just then, the front door unlocks and Lou saunters in, hair dishevelled and sporting a bruise on her jaw which Debbie isn't sure is from a hickey or a punch to the face--but she honestly doesn't care which one it is at this point. Lou's a big girl, and she figures her own shit out. Danny, however, stands up in concern, making his way over to Lou in three confident steps. Lou startles, her fists clenching naturally before lowering.

"Danny?" Lou asks, a slight slur to her voice as she looks at him. "Shit, you've gotten old. What's up, man?"

"Are you drunk?" Danny asks, taken aback. "Lou, it's like two in the afternoon."

"Never too early to start," Lou chuckles, before frowning as she looks to her watch. "Or to end? I have no fucking clue anymore."

"What the hell are you doing?" Danny asks, reaching out to grab Lou's shoulders. "This is fucking crazy."

"Hey," Lou backs up, slamming into the wall as she tenses. "Don't fucking touch me, Danny."

"Or what?" Danny asks, throwing his hands up in the air. "You're wasted, Lou. Look at yourself, this is pathetic!"

"Danny," Debbie sighs from the kitchen table, rubbing at her forehead tiredly. "Stop."

But Danny's not finished, and Debbie isn't quick enough to reach Lou's side as Danny's hands shove Lou back into the wall, an elbow pinned against her throat. Lou scrabbles at his arm, gasping as Danny presses her harder. Debbie scrambles over to Lou, concerned and afraid.

"Hey!" Debbie shouts as she shoves at Danny's shoulder. "Dan, stop. Let her go, she's not done anything to me."

"You piece of shit," Danny snarls in Lou's face, shoving her harder into the wall. "You promised me you'd take care of her, you promised me you would keep her safe and happy." Debbie's eyes tear as Lou stops fighting, recognition settling in her eyes as she goes limp in Danny's arms. 

And then, tears replace the recognition as Lou's eyes flit over to Debbie's heartbroken gaze.

When Danny lets her go and steps back, Lou crumples to her knees, slumped against the wall. Tears slide down Lou's cheeks as she looks to the floor, unable to hold her head up. Danny steps back, still protective in front of Debbie, but even the man looks distraught as Lou's shoulders start to shake. Debbie's chest cracks open at the sight of the indomitable Lou, laying slumped against their wall and sobbing relentlessly.

"I'm sorry," Lou gasps as she looks up to them both pleadingly. "I'll be better, please… _please_ … don't leave me."

Lou's voice breaks on the word before she repeats it again desperately. "Please don't leave… I swear… I'll stop… I'll stop…"

Debbie and Danny stand there, watching as Lou repeats herself until she collapses from exhaustion against the wall. Danny just takes a seat, running a hand through his hair as he looks over at Lou's prone body before glancing back up at a tear-stained Debbie with a sad sigh. Debbie takes a seat beside her brother, relishing in the comfort of Danny's arms around her shoulder as he brings her into his chest for a hug.

"I don't know what to do," Debbie whispers softly. "I can't… I can't do this anymore, Danny."

Danny just swallows, nodding as he looks to Lou with a solemn expression before turning to look at her with a sad smile.

"Maybe you should come stay with me," Danny suggests. "Just until you're back on your feet."

"And Lou?" Debbie asks, looking back to her best friend. "What will happen to her?"

"I know a good rehab place," Danny says as he hoists them back up. "We'll get her cleaned up. She'll be okay."

"We're not doing anything without discussing it with Lou first. Help me get her up," Debbie sighs as Danny looks over at Lou, crestfallen. He nods before reaching over and gently hoisting Lou's limp body in his arms. Lou is a few inches taller than her brother, but in his arms, she looks tiny. They both set Lou on her mattress, tucking up the sheets and placing a glass of water at Lou's bedside. Debbie takes a breath before she turns around, Danny at her side. They both exit the room, and once the door slides shut behind them, Debbie breaks down into tears, sobbing.

"I love her," Debbie admits as she burrows into Danny's arms. "I _love_ her, Danny."

"I know," Danny whispers as he rubs her back, "but she's not okay, Deb." 

No, Debbie finally admits as she looks over Danny's shoulder to Lou's bedroom door.

Lou wasn't ever okay.

* * * 

The next morning, Debbie walks into the kitchen to the sight of Lou dumping bottles of alcohol down the drain.

"What are you doing?" Debbie asks, concerned. "Lou--"

"I have to face it," Lou says, though her fingers tremble as she finishes dumping the last bottle. "I can't rely on it anymore."

"Lou," Debbie sighs as she enters the kitchen. "Going cold turkey isn't the best option. Tammy knows a great in-patient place."

Lou tenses at the mention of her ex-girlfriend, and Debbie doesn't miss the way Lou's fingers dig into the countertop. "Tell her thanks, but I don't need that. I can live without it. I've survived being my father's daughter before alcohol alone and I can do it again. I'm strong." Lou's voice quivers, but she says the words as confidently as someone who's never been sober in more than a decade. Debbie closes her eyes sadly.

"Maybe," Debbie says as she inches closer, "maybe you shouldn't have to do it alone."  

Lou doesn't reply to that, her eyes trained on the sink. Debbie just swallows thickly before she turns around.

"I'm going to stay with Danny for a bit," Debbie whispers, unable to face Lou and see her reaction. "I think I could use the fresh air."

When Lou doesn't reply, Debbie turns around to see Lou still staring at the sink with a glazed expression.

"Lou?"

"Yeah, I heard you. It's fine," Lou murmurs as she rubs at her eyes. "I'm okay, Deb."

"You're not, Lou, and that's okay--"

"Jesus _fucking_ Christ!" Lou snarls as she whips around. "Enough with the it's okay not to be okay bullshit, Debbie."

Debbie's eyes narrow into a glare. "Don't you dare yell at me, Lou. We all have shit, but it doesn't give you an excuse to be an asshole."

" _I'm_ an asshole?!" Lou asks, scoffing. "You don't know anything about me, Debbie!"

"Maybe that's the problem!" Debbie screams back, unable to hold the words back. "I know nothing about you, Lou!"

Lou takes a deep breath, tears once again rising to glaze those blue eyes. Debbie's breath hitches as she chokes on a sob, slumping down into dining table chair as she holds her head in her hands. Lou stays frozen in her spot, before she takes a trembling step forward before she takes a seat next to Debbie. The two of them sit for a moment in a weighted silence, with Lou rubbing her neck and Debbie staring at lines in the table.

"I couldn't sleep," Lou says quietly, looking down the table. "That's how it started."

Debbie looks up to see Lou's shoulders hunched defeatedly, her fingers picking at the wood of the table. She wants to tell Lou to stop, but at the same time she can't. She deserves an explanation, at least that's how she feels. So she waits, and Lou takes a deep breath, starting again.

"I did things when I was young," Lou says distantly, tears sliding down her cheeks slowly. "Hurt people, stole from them. I killed a few."

Debbie's chest aches as Lou shuts her eyes and reaches up to weave her hands in her hair tightly. Again, Debbie waits patiently.

"My father developed this… program. It worked on his soldiers, but he wanted to know if he could start earlier," Lou continues to speak, unable to hold back now. "Father was big into Pavlov and Skinner. Developed this conditioning program. If the tone played, it was like I blacked out."

Lou's voice breaks and she falters, but she pushes through with a shake of her head. "Father was so proud. He realized he'd created the perfect super soldier. I was excellent in academics. I was athletic and strong. I could drive by the time I was in grade school. I was skinny, underfed, this gangly thing that could fit into tight spaces and small corners. I could con anyone, could commit any crime, and no one would ever know."

"What…," Debbie trails off as Lou's tears fall faster now. Lou just shrugs helplessly.

"He wanted to teach me how to manage pain--every variation of pain--and to let it motivate me," Lou growls, her voice growing grittier as Debbie recognizes the shadow passing over Lou's gaze. "That… _fucker_ tortured me, stripped me naked and chained me to a wall while his henchman whipped me, stabbed me, burned me, starved me. God, they fucking _raped_ me. Made me watch as they killed people in front of me. Women, children, people who were in the wrong place in the wrong time. He tried to condition me to not feel pain or empathy, but I still did." 

Debbie's stomach flips at the description of events as Lou tugs at her hair more violently than before. "Oh Lou…"

"I tried to save a few of them," Lou says softly, sinking deeper into the memory. "But I couldn't. And I was punished for it."

There's a pause before Lou takes a breath and glances over to Debbie with a half-hearted shrug. "After Harry was born, I ran away."

"How old were you?" Debbie asks, voice hoarse from disuse. "Lou?"

"I escaped when I was fourteen," Lou says as she turns her attention back to the table. "But everything else? Since I was born."

Tears slide down both of their cheeks as Lou shrugs sadly, glancing over to the empty bottles. "I started drinking when I was fifteen. I'd saved up enough to buy myself a plane ticket to New York. Roamed the streets a bit, did some shady shit, and bummed whatever I could to survive. A homeless lady offered me some bourbon on a cold day and that night I slept better than I ever had before in my life. The pain was just… _gone_."

Debbie tries to imagine a scrawny, blonde-haired teenager who did what she had to do to survive in a cruel world, and her heart breaks again.

"I drink because I _can't_ be sober Debbie," Lou explains quietly, folding her hands together. "When I don't drink, it all comes back, and I can't. I look at my hands and all I see is blood. I look around me and all I see is all the people I've hurt. I look in the mirror, and all I see is _him_."

Lou's voice cracks on the word as she hangs her head again. "That's why I drink, so I can't see it anymore."

Debbie swallows at the quiet admission, her throat caught on the pit lodging her airways. Lou scoffs, wiping at her tears uselessly.

"The sad thing is that I thought I was better," Lou croaks as she shakes her head in disgust. "I thought that I was moving through it but each year has become more suffocating and all I can see is him. Even when I was drunk, I could see _him_. I still hear him, Debbie. I hear him and it terrifies me because what if I become him? I look exactly like him and I was his greatest creation. He controlled me, and he still fucking controls me."

Lou sighs sadly, slumping back in the chair as she looks up to the ceiling. "I'm just so tired, Deb. I'm _tired_."

When Lou's glazed eyes look over at Debbie, the unspoken words leave Debbie feeling more worried than before. "Lou--"

"I won't," Lou just chuckles sadly, "I've tried it, multiple times. I never have the guts to do it. God knows why; nothing is keeping me here."

Debbie's lungs constrict as the air is sucked from them violently. "Lou, you don't mean that."

"I'm a disappointment," Lou growls, gritting her teeth as she rips the words from the shadows of her mind. "I'm a fuck-up. A drunk. A selfish coward. The only thing I've ever been good at is being a criminal and _fuck_ , what does that say about me when _he_ is a phenomenal one?" Lou just shakes her head and stands, rubbing at her forehead as she wipes away the remaining stray tears with a heavy sigh and a tired swallow.

"You should probably go to Danny's," Lou says after the small lapse of silence passes between them. "You don't deserve this, Debbie."

"You're pushing me away," Debbie says as she stands, "I want to be there for you, Lou, but you don't want help. What else can I do?"

Lou goes to say something, but thinks better of it when she looks back up to Debbie's pleading gaze. "I… I don't know, Deb."

"I hope you figure it out, because I can't make that decision for you," Debbie says softly. "I just want you to be happy, Lou."

Lou gives her a half-hearted smile as she shrugs again, eyes tearing up as she whispers, "I don't know if I _can_ , Deb."

* * * 

Lou's sobriety lasts a total of four hours.

Debbie isn't disappointed or mad when she catches Lou sneaking a bottle of Jack into her bedroom. Debbie just cooks something up and leaves it in the fridge before she grabs the bag she'd packed and hails a cab to Danny's place. The entire ride, she forces herself to not think about Lou. _You're not her keeper_ , she hears Tammy's voice in her ear. And fuck, she _isn't_ her keeper, but Lou is the love of her life, and no matter how bad it gets, she should be there. That's how it should be, but Lou's not the only one who's tired. Debbie's given up everything, lost everything.

All for Lou.

And the sad thing is, she'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

* * * 

Days later, when Debbie returns to the loft, they don't talk about Lou's rare sober confessional.

In fact, Lou and Debbie don't talk at _all_.

Debbie has burning questions, especially when Lou pulls out the scotch from the cabinet before dumping more than a shots' worth into her coffee before slumping down at the dining table. Debbie slides her plate of eggs over, but Lou just waves her off with a half-hearted smile.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm still a bit queasy from last night."

Debbie can't help it as she eyes the coffee cop. "Funny. I'd have thought drinking scotch at 9am would be worse."

If the words cut deep, Lou doesn't show it. Instead, she just shrugs and takes another sip. "Makes it go down easier."

Okay, so maybe they're going to talk about it. Or at least, _Debbie_ is going to talk about it.

"When was the last time you were sober--properly sober, and not attempt at sobriety a few days ago?" Debbie asks, trying to keep the accusation out of her voice, but from the way Lou flinches, she knows she's failed. _Oh well, I've already dug my grave._ Clearing her throat, Debbie continues to say, "I know I sound angry, but I'm not mad, I'm just concerned, Lou. You can't use alcohol to cope with your trauma."

"I know what I'm doing," Lou replies bitingly as she glares at Debbie. "I don't need to be coddled, Deborah."

"Coddled?" Debbie asks, arching her brow. "Lou, you're a grown-ass woman with a drinking problem. I'm not coddling you."

"I don't have a drinking problem," Lou growls, cupping her mug tighter. "Back off, Debbie. I'm serious."

But this has been building between them, something quiet and unresolved, something tense and heavy. It's something they've already danced around but this time Debbie is airing it out because she can't stop it. It's like word vomit, and she hates how Lou curls in on herself defensively.

"You can't even drink coffee normally, Lou. Look at yourself," Debbie urges, her voice cracking. "It's also been affecting the jobs."

At that, Lou's eyes go from guarded to infuriated. "The _jobs_?"

"Yes," Debbie says as she builds on seeded pain, "you've put our assess at risk fair too many times because you can't go without a fucking drink for five fucking minutes. That last real-estate one we did, Tammy had to take your spot because you were too drunk to function! God, we could have been caught, Lou. It would have been prison for all three of us all because you fucked the entire thing to hell with your immaturity." She doesn't want to say it, she never did, but Debbie's tired of Lou not giving a fuck. She's tired of feeling like dead weight and she wants _better_.

No, she _deserves_ better.

"Immaturity?" Lou practically roars the word as she stands up. "Fucking, hell, Deb, if you wanted me out so bad you should have said it!"

"You're good at what you do," Debbie spits out, "but you're a drunk, Lou. A fucking drunk. Tammy was right all those years ago."

At that, Lou flinches even harder than before and Debbie hates the way the uncertainty flashes in Lou's eyes. "Tammy?"

"Yeah," Debbie says, her voice quieter now. "She said that you… you're an alcoholic. I didn't believe her, but now…"

It hurts, it fucking hurts more than Debbie could ever say, to watch as all those walls she'd spent stripping down start building themselves back up as Lou moves backwards, step by step until she hits the wall of their kitchen. She looks like a startled animal, cornered and afraid. And Debbie moves forward, aware but unable to stop, that she's feeding into every insecurity she knows Lou believes in the shadows of her mind.

"I don't think you're what I need anymore," Debbie says softly, gulping. "When I was younger, more naive, maybe, but now… now it's toxic."

It's the final blow. Debbie knows it is, because that's when she watches the life literally get sucked out of Lou's eyes.

_"Oh."_

And what a broken "oh" it is. 

Lou just looks to the side like some lost puppy, her fingers picking at her nails as she tries to focus on something to hold her steady through the panic which Debbie knows is threatening to tide her over. Debbie wants to move forward, to comfort her, but she's stuck. It's the worst feeling to admit that she feels better than she has in the last seventeen and a half years, because this is something she's always kept a secret, but now it's free. Lou is her best friend, but Debbie knows that even she can't follow Lou's path of self-destruction anymore. She wants--no, _needs_ \--more.

"So… now what?" Lou asks, not able to look up. "Are we… is this…"

It kills Debbie on the inside as she remembers the first time she met Lou, full of confidence and swagger, only to find out it was all a front for the woman she sees in front of her right now. Lou is a good three inches taller than her, even more in heeled boots, but right now, Debbie's sure she's never seen Lou look so small. She's sliding down to the ground, clutching her knees to her chest as she closes her eyes, hanging her head.

"Lou…," Debbie says quietly, "You need real help. And I can't give that to you."

Lou doesn't speak, not even when Debbie kneels before her, fingers itching to reach out and comfort her. And then, the softest confession:

Lou looks up and whispers, "I _love_ you, Deborah."

Debbie's heart snaps in two as she shakes her head. "You can't do this to me. You can't say that when I need to leave just to get me to stay."

Lou reels back as if she's been slapped as Debbie stands back up. "I'm not your crutch, Lou. I can't be your crutch anymore."

"Is that all you thought you were to me?" Lou asks, heartbroken. "Debbie, you're not… it's not… fuck… I love you, honestly, I _do_ …"

Debbie smiles sadly, moving further away from Lou, unable to tear her gaze away from Lou. "I did love you, Lou."

"But not anymore," Lou finishes dejectedly, glancing down sadly. "I… I'm sorry, Deb."

"Yeah," Debbie says as she brushes off her coat, trying to keep her guilt at bay. "So am I, Lou."

She reaches into her pocket to hand a business card to Lou. The Australian gazes over the small text on the card before looking up at Debbie, tears pooling in those blue eyes. Debbie offers her a half-hearted shrug before she heads for the door, forcing herself to not turn around.

"Wait," Lou pleads desperately as she stumbles to her feet. "Wait, just wait. Debbie!"

Debbie stops for a moment, turning her head over her shoulder to Lou staring at her with a solemn expression.

"We're still partners, right?" Lou asks, and despite the natural ease of the question, it holds something deeper, something more.

Debbie remembers their one and only night together, when she had been the one to ask the question to Lou. Debbie just nods sadly.

"Always," she repeats Lou's answer from that day softly as she opens the front door, "you're my ride or die, Lou."

The last thing Debbie sees that day is Lou's smile, untainted by pain or loss, and it's damned good last sight to have.

* * * 

Eight months later, Debbie gives her testimony in an orange jumpsuit, framed for insurance fraud by one Claude Becker.

Part of her is glad that Lou never met the man, because she knows that they'd never have gotten along. Where Lou was loyal and strong, despite her flaws, Claude was a spineless coward only looking out for himself and no one else. He'd handed her to the dogs without a second glance, and she knows that without a doubt in her mind, Lou would have fought tooth and nail to prevent Debbie from going to prison, even if it meant she sacrificed herself in the process. So yeah, Debbie is grateful that Lou never knew Claude Becker, never knew what he did to hurt her.

"Guilty," the judge announces when the jury is called back in. "You've been sentenced to ten years with chance of parole."

Debbie doesn't cry. Doesn't weep as she had done in her testimonial or during her meeting with the lawyers. She doesn't burrow into Danny's shoulder when he'd practically bludgeoned his way past her guards to wrap her in a protective hold, muttering about how he'll make this right. 

Instead, Debbie's eyes stay glued on that familiar platinum-blonde bob and those ice blue eyes at the back of the courtroom.

She's not sure how Lou found her, or found out about any of this, but she can see the fierce protection in Lou's gaze. She looks better, alive but still tired, and Debbie knows it must look awful for the audience, but she can't help smile at the minuscule amount of mirth in Lou's eyes.

In that moment, the courtroom doesn't exist, it's only the two of them, and Debbie's never felt happier in her life.

Lou sends her a sad wink as Debbie feels herself hoisted up from her seat and through to the back doors. The last image she sees is that blonde mop exiting through the massive wooden doors and back into the courthouse. Debbie sighs as she's sent to the backroom to change into her orange jumpsuit. Just as she's about to fold her suit jacket, a small piece of paper drops down. Frowning, Debbie reaches down and picks it up.

Unfolding it, Debbie tears up and smiles harder at the familiar cursive print.

_Stay out of trouble. I'll be waiting for you when you're out._

_I love you, Jailbird._

_x._


	2. Canon: Lou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you look into the distance, there's a house upon the hill.  
> Guiding like a lighthouse, it's a place where you'll be.  
> Safe to feel at grace and if you've lost your way.  
> If you've lost your way, I will leave the light on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Violence, Mention of Previous Rape (not graphic) and Alcohol Abuse.
> 
> I hope this is cathartic enough!!
> 
> Honestly this chapter is its own story in and of itself and it is a giant ride, but I hope it all makes sense and has a good ending??

When Lou first sees Debbie after six years, she can't hold back from reaching out and pulling her into a sweeping hug.

"Hey, hey easy," Debbie chuckles as she gently pushes Lou off, "been in the slammer."

"Oh," Lou teases, reaching for her gear stick as she pulls out of the cemetery driveway, "I just thought you just changed your number."

Debbie relaxes into the seat after Lou winks at her, and Lou has never felt so much joy before. They drive in silence, with Debbie staring out the window at the rain spattering across the windows as Lou drives them onto the less crowded side streets. It's not totally awkward, but it still is.

"You get that credit line I asked for?" Debbie asks softly. Lou tenses slightly.

"Not yet," Lou says as she looks over to Debbie, "I didn't know what it was for--wait, why are you looking at me like that?"

Debbie just rolls her eyes as she turns over to look at her with a knowing expression before she turns her attention back to the window. "It's the 'I've just been in jail for five years and my partner just let me down' face. I asked you for one thing, Lou, one tiny little thing."

Well, fuck if _that_ doesn't sting a little.

Lou only swallows the pain from the jab and just focuses back on the road.

"I'm not your partner," Lou says as she drives a tad bit faster. "Yet."

Lou doesn't need to look beside her to know that Debbie's smiling, but it doesn't bring her the satisfaction she craves. They drive quietly for a few moments before Debbie finally breaks the silence. "I'm antsy, Lou. And I've got an idea. A big one, and I want you to hear it."

Something in Lou's chest sinks a bit at that. "Oh," she says, trying to mask her disappointment. "You really want to jump back in?"

"I've already wasted six years," Debbie says with a shrug. "I don't want to waste any more."

Lou just nods, trying to ignore how those familiar insecurities bubble up inside of her. She refuses to transport herself back to those memories, to the pain which resides within her veins. Instead, she just grips the steering wheel tighter and focuses her attention on the road. She doesn't think about the itch at the back of her throat, the pleading voice in the shadows of her mind, wanting, yearning, needing for just one drop…

"You look good," Debbie says after awhile, "I like the bangs."

Lou swallows down her internal thoughts and smiles, gazing over at Debbie. "You grew your hair out. Looks good."

"Not much of an option for anything else in prison," Debbie chuckles, running a hand through her hair as she looks over at Lou. "It isn't really like _Orange is the New Black_ or anything. No prison fights, though I did get myself thrown in solitary--I wasn't fond of having five bunkmates."

"You always did love your personal space," Lou chuckles as she pulls into the lot next to her loft. Debbie arches her brow.

"Oh," Debbie hums as she looks around. Lou shrugs, not wanting to think about it. "This is nice. Chainlink, barbed wire…"

"Came with the rent," Lou says as she powers off the engine before kicking open her door. "Come on, I'll give you a tour."

"Wait," Debbie says, reaching out to grab at Lou's arm. She can't help it, but she flinches and pulls herself away from Debbie's fingers. She centres her breathing and grips onto the door handle tightly as she controls every instinct within her to just flee. When she finally looks up, she can see the mixture of guilt and sadness in Debbie's eyes, but Lou only feels more infuriated at the sight of her pity. She shakes her head.

"What, Deborah?" She doesn't mean to sound cold, but she is. It's been six long years, after all. Debbie just reaches into her pocket and whips out Lou's favourite cologne, _Chanel No. 5_. Lou looks it over, settling back in her seat. She doesn't bother hiding her disappointment.

"Oh… um," she fumbles as she fingers over the security detector. "Can I exchange something you stole?"

Debbie grins. "If you're going to have a problem with stealing you're not going to like the rest of this conversation."

"What, we're gonna shoplift?" Lou asks, arching her brow. "Debbie, come on--"

Debbie frowns, lifting her finger. "Now, now, just wait--"

"No," Lou sighs as she sets the bottle down and looks at Debbie with a guarded expression. "This is what you make me do. You make me guess, and then I'm interested, and then you think because I'm interested, that I want to do it--" 

"You don't want to do things you're interested in?" Debbie asks nonchalantly. Lou swallows at the hidden weight of the question.

"I'm interested in brain surgery," Lou replies as she looks away. Debbie chuckles, biting at her bottom lip.

"Well, we both know that's not going to happen," Debbie says, "and besides, you'd be more convincing if you said astrophysics."

Lou clenches her jaw as she flattens her palms over her jeans. "Let's just… go inside. I don't want to talk about this here."

"But you _do_ want to talk about it," Debbie grins. Lou only rolls her eyes and gets out of the car with a huff. "Lou, you can't resist me."

No, she really _can't_. 

She grabs Debbie's suitcase from the back of the truck before carrying it inside. She unlocks the door and shoves the wooden doors open before moving aside to let Debbie in. Lou locks the doors as Debbie takes a few wandering steps inside, assessing the sweeping ceilings and open spaces. She looks around to the almost minimalist decoration of random items and artworks. Lou waits anxiously, shifting her weight.

"It's nice," Debbie says as she turns around to flash Lou a smile. "Very _you_."

"You think it's nice now, but try heating the place." Debbie chuckles at that as Lou sets the suitcase down. "Um, there's a room for you. Upstairs. Got those Victorian windows you love so much. Your stuff's in there by the way. Clothes, jewelry. Even your godawful Chanel slippers."

Debbie nods her thanks as she comes to stand over next to Lou. "Want to grab a bite? Hear more about the job?"

"Now?" Lou asks, knowing that this isn't about getting food. It's so much more than that. "You just got back--"

"I could use some real food," Debbie insists, before eyeing Lou up and down. "So could you. Jeez Lou, did you not eat while I was gone?"

"I did," Lou says self-consciously, unconsciously wrapping her arms around her middle as she looks down. "I'm fine."

Debbie looks like she wants to say something more, but she thinks better of it as she sighs and grabs at her suitcase. Lou watches as she marches her way over to the staircase, before turning and asking, "which room's mine again?"

"Last one on the left," Lou tells her in a soft croak. "Can't miss it."

"Got it," Debbie says, before heading up the stairs. She pauses at the top one before turning to look at Lou again, "and thanks, Lou."

Lou just nods, lost for words as she watches Debbie trek back up the stairs.

* * * 

Lou shouldn't be surprised that Debbie wants to run a jewelry con, but she is surprised when it's a heist.

When Debbie tells her she wants to rob the Met, it's like she's left the planet entirely.

"It's simple," Debbie explains as they watch Daphne Kluger answer questions about hosting the event. "We get her to take the Toussaint out and then we do simple distribution. The necklace is worth a hundred-and-fifty million. And we'd have completed the biggest heist of the century."

Lou feels that itch again, and it's harder to stop her hands from shaking this time when she asks, "how long have you spent thinking about it?"

"Doing a job this big?" Debbie asks, glancing over to where Daphne is being led out by a security team. "Forever. The Met? Since prison."

"Right," Lou says as she turns away, leading them both back to the main street. "I mean… do you really need to do this?"

At that, Debbie pauses. "What?"

Lou winces at the sharpness in Debbie's voice as she turns slightly, shrugging as she avoids Debbie's gaze. "I mean, before you got sent to prison, I transferred your funds into a new account. I put your name down in my books as an official employee at the club so at least it isn't suspicious when money starts coming into your account. We've saved up enough to live out our lives like normal people. We don't need this."

"We?" Debbie scoffs, stepping closer to Lou. "And to think we were partners for life."

"Deb," Lou sighs as she looks up. "It's not… I just think that maybe this isn't something I want."

"Let me get this straight," Debbie says incredulously, "you're telling me you want to spend your time just settling, rather than be something more? This job, Lou, it's more than just the money. God, don't you miss the rush you used to get when you pull the rug out from someone?"

Lou is quiet for a moment, and despite everything in her head screaming at her to stop, to step back, she remembers the moment Debbie left her for something-- _someone_ \--better, and she can't relive that again. She knows it isn't right, that she can't go back to depending on Debbie, but in these last few hours, Lou's fallen back into that same comforting space she's not felt since Debbie had walked out on her years ago.

"Lou?" Debbie asks, waiting for a response. "Are you in or out?"

Lou just looks up and sighs, glancing back to where Daphne enters her private car and drives into New York traffic. She tousles her hair with one hand, trying to hide the growing pressure inside of her chest. Finally, she takes a deep breath and nods, shaking her head with a soft chuckle.

"Fine," she says as she looks back up to Debbie. "I'm in, okay? But you gotta convince me of your plan or else I'll walk."

Debbie grins, reaching down to tangle their arms together as they start walking. "I'll swoon you over pancakes and bacon, darling."

"Well," Lou sighs as she squeezes Debbie's hand softly. "I can't say no to that, now can I?"

* * * 

"It's still a museum," Lou says as she adjust the collar of her suit while Debbie gorges on pancakes and strawberries with no shame.

"So?" Debbie asks, swallowing down a mouthful, looking at Lou like she's not finished her point. Lou rolls her eyes.

" _So_ ," she exaggerates the word, "it's not like robbing a liquor store."

"Because you have so much experience with that," Debbie says, and Lou at the same time as Debbie once the words have come out. Debbie goes to apologize, but Lou waves her off. She doesn't want to talk about that right now, and she knows that she can't even think about it either. Debbie just reaches back down to shovel more pancake bites into her mouth before turning to face Lou with a mouthful of food in her cheeks.

" _Thatswhywerenotrobbingamuseumthatswhy--_ "

"Um sorry," Lou interrupts as she eyes Debbie. "While I'm fluent in several languages, I don't speak Ukrainian, remember?"

"I said," Debbie repeats after swallowing her food. "We're not robbing a museum, we're robbing someone--"

" _In_ a museum, yeah, you mentioned that," Lou sighs as she leans forward. "Listen, even if this was possible--"

"It _is_ possible," Debbie interrupts, reaching for her coffee. Lou sighs again, looking out the window.

"Even if this was possible," she repeats, "we'd need like twenty people and half a million dollars--"

"Seven people," Debbie cuts in again, stabbing at a strawberry. Lou arches her brow. Debbie just smirks up at her. "Seven people and twenty-thousand dollars." Lou cocks her head, leaning back in her chair as she tries not to show her absolute shock at Debbie's proposition. When Debbie doesn't budge, and that confident expression doesn't fall off her face, Lou can't help but ask the one burning question she has.

"Why do you need to do this?"

Debbie shrugs. "Because it's what I'm good at."

Lou just shakes her head, trying to hide the scoff which leaves her lips. " _Yeah_ …"

"You know what?" Debbie asks, looking back down to her food. "I have run this thing a thousand times, and every time I got caught, I fixed it. In three years, I wasn't getting caught anymore. And by the time I was out it was running like clockwork. Perfect." Lou looks at Debbie now, so different than the Debbie she'd met at the bar who'd miserably failed to steal the watch off her wrist. Lou wonders when it all flipped upside, when Debbie went from being the dealer to the mastermind, but Lou is too tired for introspection or retrospection right now. Instead, she sighs.

"And?" Lou asks, trying not to show Debbie how uncomfortable she feels right now. Debbie just smiles again, softer, more genuine.

"And you were there with me, every step of the way. Just like old times," Debbie says, forking together more pancake. "Partners, remember?"

Lou can't help it when the words leave her lips, "oh honey, is this a proposal?"

If Debbie's shocked by the words, she doesn't show it. Instead, she just looks down to her food. "Baby, I don't have a diamond yet."

 _Will you ever?_ Lou thinks sadly as Debbie holds out the forkful of food in front of her face. _After everything we've been through?_

"Come on, do you really want to spend the rest of your life watering down well-vodka?" Debbie asks, cocking her head. "It's really kind of a waste, you know. Now come on, open up. Take a bite." Lou scoffs again, trying to hide the hurt which festers inside of her as Debbie nods again.

"Come on," Debbie urges, "just take a bite, Lou."

 _Risk it,_ she hears Debbie's voice in her ear from all those years ago, _prove it, Lou._

But Lou's too tired to think clearly this time, so against her better judgement, she leans forward and takes the bait.

* * * 

That night, when Debbie returns late from apparently nearly shivving Claude Becker's shirt to death, Lou can't stop the itch anymore.

"You had to visit him again?" Lou asks as she plays with her food, avoiding Debbie's gaze. "I thought you'd had enough of him after he sent your ass to prison without a second glance." Debbie shrugs, scooping up some Kung Pao chicken and shovelling it into her mouth with a grin.

"Had to send a message somehow."

"Aren't you on parole?" Lou asks, setting her chopsticks down. "I mean, isn't this kind of stuff going to look bad?"

"Hm," Debbie hums between bites. "Almost sounds like you think you know what's best for me."

Lou hates the burning in her lungs, the uncontrollable shaking of her hands as she grips the table. "Debbie, come on, that's not--"

"It's fine," Debbie says, shrugging. "I'm the one that got sent to prison, remember?"

"I don't want to fight with you," Lou sighs as she rubs at her head. "I'm just… I just want you to be okay."

"Prison was fine, Lou. I mean, I didn't have a harem of prison bitches, but I survived and was fine." Lou rolls her eyes at the crassness in Debbie's voice. She's so tired. She holds herself together as Debbie continues eating without another glance in her direction. She wonders if the tension will ever dissipate between them. She knows she's hurt Debbie, but Debbie's also hurt her, and Lou isn't so sure where they both stand now.

"Mm," Debbie says as she licks her fingers, getting up from the chair to wander over to Lou's fridge. "Where's your beer?"

Lou's eye twitches as she looks to the ground. "I don't have any."

Debbie chuckles, swinging the fridge door shut. "The loft I expected. The beat-up Toyota, too. But no beer in one Lou Miller's refrigerator, now that's something _different_."

Lou stays silent, biting back the urge to talk back when Debbie saunters back over and sits down, eyeing her curiously. Lou rubs her hands up and down her jeans, struggling to keep her emotions in check as she feels Debbie waiting for her to reply. Lou swallows thickly, shrugging.

"I… um," Lou struggles to say as she shakes her head, "I'm sober now."

Debbie's brows raise, her shoulders slumping slightly as she drops the allusive act. "You… are?"

Lou rubs the back of her head nervously. "It's only been eight months, so it's not much…"

"Eight months," Debbie repeats, a soft smile curling her lips. "That's great, Lou. I'm happy for you."

"Are you though?" Lou asks, a hard edge falling into her voice. "You left me, remember? Made these big promises of wanting to help, of rehab places. We were partners, but you left me. Yeah, I admit it. I was fucked up, but I… I would have gone to the edge of the Earth for you, Debbie."

Debbie winces slightly, before she looks away and shrugs. "I wasn't your _mother_ , Lou--"

"Fuck off," Lou snarls as she stands. "You're a piece of shit, Ocean."

" _I'm_ a piece of shit?" Debbie snaps this time, rising from her seat. "You forced me to stay and take care of you. God, I wanted so much more. You just stopped, Lou. Stopped aspiring to be more, stopped trying to be better, just stopped. To be fucking honest, I'm surprised you're still here."

That's a low blow which sends Lou reeling. "You didn't have faith in me to get better?"

Debbie sighs, gazing at the table. "Not… not really. You never called when I was in prison, so I thought… you know…"

Lou takes a wobbly step back, blinking back tears as she struggles to compose herself. She wants to drink, to solve her problems the old fashion way, but she can't let herself stoop that low. She stumbles backwards, almost tripping on the small step leading into the living room. She looks to the locked room at the base of the steps, her vision swimming as she tries to pull herself away from all-too recent memories. Pain flares up and down her back, ghosts of scars all over her body burning with each second she spends staring at the padlock. She closes her eyes tightly.

_Tell me where he is. Tell me now or I'll give the word and her throat will be slit by morning._

"Lou?" Debbie asks, worry creeping into her voice. "You okay?"

Lou lets the screams in her head subside before she takes a deep breath and nods. She opens her eyes and glances up to Debbie sadly.

"I'll do this one job," Lou says softly, "but then I'm out. For good, Debbie."

Debbie looks hurt, but she nods anyways. "Of course."

"Alright," Lou sighs as she walks back over and sits down. "I guess you're going to need a hacker."

* * * 

"Been awhile since you've been here, boss."

Lou looks up to where Nine Ball is lounging on her beanbag chair, a blunt in her hand and her computer in her other. Lou settles into the worn-out couch at her side as she runs a hand through her hair, her rings catching on some of the tangles painfully. Nine Ball looks at her curiously.

"You got something for me or are you on a friendly visit?"

"Old partner is back in town," Lou explains. "Got a job for you."

"No shit, Debbie is back? How's that been?" Nine Ball asks, eyeing Lou in concern. "Did you…?"

"No," Lou says, shaking her head. "Sure as hell hasn't been easy, but I haven't."

"Good," Nine Ball says proudly. "Now what's this job? And please tell me you've told Constance."

"I'm heading there next. Was hoping you'd come with me," Lou says as she looks around Nine Ball's room, noticing the notable absence of the dynamic duo. "Where's V?"

"School," Nine Ball says, a proud grin pulling at her lips. "Got into a summer internship program at Harvard. Used the money from the last gig to fund it."

Lou smiles. "Good kid. She'll make great connections there." 

"Mm," Nine Ball agrees with a nod. "She's loving it. Glad she can have what we couldn't, you know?"

Lou just swallows and nods, rising when Nine Ball slams her laptop case shut. The two of them make it down the stairs, making small talk until they get to Lou's car. Nine Ball hops into the front seat, adjusting the radio as Lou pulls into the main road, making her way down to the courtyard Constance was known to frequent when she was doing her Three-Card Monte. Lou spots her on a park bench, chatting with a girl.

"Girlfriend?" Lou asks curiously in a lazy drawl, pulling the car into a parking lot, glancing at Nine Ball, who just shrugs, before opening her laptop and clattering away at her keypad.

A few clicks of her keys later, Nine Ball chuckles. "It's a Tinder date. She's twenty-one, an undergraduate majoring in criminology at Columbia. Fast-tracked to a Master's at Yale. Smart girl, loves dogs and is allergic to shellfish. Has two siblings, and a cop for a father. Mix bag."

"Hm," Lou chuckles as she glances at Constance laughing at something the girl says. "Hope she doesn't get too attached."

"Forbidden love," Nine Ball sighs, "it's something for all of us, isn't it?"

Lou detects the longing in her friend's voice, turning her head to glance at her worriedly. "You and Tammy still haven't figured it out?"

"I'm far from the humanitarian husband, two and a half children, suburban dream, Lou."

Lou scoffs bitterly. "Some humanitarian he turned out to be, that bastard."

Nine Ball gives her a sympathetic look. "You got there in time, Lou. It could have been far, far worse."

"It wasn't enough," Lou growls as she clenches the steering wheel with her hands. "He could have killed them."

"But he didn't," Nine Ball reminds her gently, "thanks to you, Lou."

There's a pause that settles between them, before Lou powers off the engine and gets out of the car. Nine Ball joins her seconds later, hooking her laptop under her arm before she follows after Lou with a determined walk. As the girl Constance had been talking to walks past them, Lou can't help but meet her gaze. The girl adjusts the strap of her laptop bag, clearing her throat as she looks down and shuffles away. Nine Ball chuckles from beside her, mumbling something oddly close to "overprotective much?" as they make their way to where Constance is texting.

"Y'all need to work on your stalking skills," Constance says as they approach, glancing up at them both with a bored expression before it turns into an ear-splitting grin. "How's it going, Daddy-yo?" Lou settles onto the bench beside her, looking the girl up and down.

"You've lost weight," Lou notices as she worriedly glances up at Constance. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," Constance says with a grin. "Started a new workout plan. I can do a handstand for two minutes now."

"Sick," Nine Ball beams with a jerk of her head. "Gotta teach me that shit some time, sis."

"Not sure if you could handle it, nerd."

"Do you want me to tell Jennifer that you once got stuck on a carousel as a _young adult_ and cried until a fireman cut you loose?"

"That was between us, dude! Not cool."

"Ladies," Lou gently interrupts them, "have we finished?"

"Yes Dad" and "Ya Pops, we good" come from both the women as Lou leans back on the bench. 

"Good, because we have a job to do, and I am going to need the both of you."

* * * 

That night, after Nine Ball and Constance leave, Debbie whirls around on her in an instant.

"I need professionals, Lou. Not children."

Lou shrugs, nonchalant. "Who said that children can't make good criminals? Look at me, Debs."

"Because that went well, right?"

Debbie asks without thinking about how the words would bite into Lou's skin. Lou winces, but doesn't do more than look away as she takes a deep breath. Debbie just rolls her eyes as Lou walks past her towards the fridge. She reaches inside for a bottle of sparkling water, uncapping it before raising it to her lips. She goes to turn back to face Debbie, but then her gaze is lost in the shadow over Debbie's shoulder. Lou sets the bottle down before she bolts past Debbie, ignoring the other woman's confused protests as she makes her way over to the window, seeing it's locked.

"Lou," Debbie calls her name again, drawing her back. "Jesus, what has gotten into you? This place haunted or something?"

_If only you knew._

"No," she says again, glancing back over to the padlocked door. "It's fine."

Lou clears her throat and turns her gaze away from the locks and walks towards Debbie. "Cons and Nine are good people. Loyal. They're the best you're going to get on this side of the coast. We've got a designer, we've got a pickpocket and a hacker, and now all we need is a fence."

"Give me a few days," Debbie says, still concerned as Lou's hands tremble when she gets closer. "I'll come up with something."

Lou just nods, swallowing thickly as she makes her way over to the staircase. "In that case, I'm heading to bed. Been a long day."

"It's like ten o'clock--"

Lou doesn't turn around. She _can't_. "Goodnight, Debbie."

When Lou gets into her bedroom, she closes the door as gently as she can before she checks her bedroom window. The locks are all sealed and protected. Still unsure, Lou opens her cabinet and pulls out the security box she'd holed up under a wooden floorboard. After punching in the code, Lou rummages through the wads of cash and passports before grabbing at the gun planted at the bottom. The weight of it in her hand is too familiar, and Lou swallows down the tears creeping up in her eyes as she loads it and cocks it, but keeps the safety on.

"You're safe," she mutters to herself as she pulls the gun to her chest. "You're safe, they're gone, they're gone…"

The itch crawls again, rooting itself in her mind as she sees their faces in front of her, grinning ear-to-ear, berating her, goading her--

_I'm in your head now, dear, and we will never be apart again._

"No!" Lou growls as she stands up and paces around her room, clutching at her head with her free hand. "You don't control me."

 _And what a lie it is,_ Lou thinks when she falls asleep with the gun in her hand, _what a beautiful lie it is._

* * * 

When Lou next opens her eyes, she's no longer in her bed.

She's in a room, chained to the wall, stripped to her underwear and staring into a camera and an intercom on a small wooden table.

 _"You thought that you could run away,"_ the voice over the intercom drawls. _"Did you honestly think that I wouldn't find you?"_

Lou tries to speak out, but the gag around her mouth prevent her from making a noise. She struggles in the tight metal chaining her to the wall. No matter how hard she twists and turns, her body contorts painfully, and all she can do is resign to her fate with a huffed breath. She glares into the camera, not letting whoever is watching her have the benefit of watching her suffer. She'll go down unafraid and tearless.

_"Tell me, Lena, what were you thinking when you ran away?"_

Lou growls again, clenching her fists until she feels blood drip from her punctured palms. 

_"Oh yes, I forgot that you've changed your name. A shame, especially when you know what Lena means."_

There's a pause, before the door unlocks and a man walks in with a briefcase. He seems familiar, but Lou doesn't even look at him.

_"Surely you recognize Nicholas, don't you? He remembers you."_

Lou doesn't take her eyes off the camera as the voice continues to mock her.

_"You can change your name, my dear, but you can't change your destiny. Allow Nicholas to give you a reminder."_

Lou swallows thickly as Nicolas walks over and sets the briefcase on the table, before he opens it up. Lou doesn't let fear trickle into her gaze as she watches an assortment of tools and knives unravel from the leather. Nicholas turns to her, expression blank as he waits patiently. There's a pause, before Nicholas walks over and undoes the gag around her mouth, before he goes to adjust her chains so she's strung up tighter.

"You've trained me for this," Lou spits out, still staring at the camera. "I'm not stranger to a little pain."

There's a pause, before Nicholas turns back and grabs at a cattle prong, flicking on the switch to allow them both to listen to the whirring of electricity. Lou doesn't show any reaction, doesn't shift her gaze away from the camera as Nicholas creeps closer, reaching for her chin.

_"A false witness will not go unpunished, nor will a liar escape."_

Lou chuckles, shaking her head. "Quoting the Bible now, are we? Because you're so holy, isn't that right? You're Hellbound, bastard."

There's a crackle over the intercom as Nicolas primes the prong. Lou doesn't move, doesn't even flinch as he holds it against her side.

_"You could have been so much more, Lena. It's a shame it must end this way."_

Lou spits on the ground. "I'm sorry I disappointed you, _Father_."

There's another small pause, before Nicholas angles her chin away from the camera so they can lock eyes.

_"Begin."_

* * * 

Lou startles awake, holding the gun out as she lets herself get acquainted to her surroundings.

"Fuck," she breathes out between panted breaths, "fuck, fuck…"

Lou lowers the gun and runs a shaky hand through her hair as she stumbles out of the bed and towards her bathroom. She flicks on the light and avoids the mirror as she sets the gun on the countertop. She turns on the tap and splashes her face with water, trying to pull away from the memories plaguing her mind. Her shoulders are trembling by the time she stops, but the nausea hasn't settled and Lou's on her knees at the foot of the toilet, retching up whatever she'd eaten the night before. Clearly it isn't much, considering most of what's in the toilet is bile.

After she's done, she flushes and rinses out her mouth before she opens her medicine cabinet. She pulls at a few of the pill bottles and uncaps them. She knocks the painkillers back before cupping her hand and swallowing more water. Finally, Lou straightens and looks at the mirror. Her eyes are hooded with dark circles, bloodshot and her irises have faded to an ugly grey instead of the bright blue they'd once been years ago.

Or perhaps they've always been this dull, this lacking in life.

Knowing she won't get back to sleep anytime soon, Lou does her bed and changes into a set of tight shorts and a form-fitting tank. She tucks the gun in the waistband of her shorts before grabbing some sports tape and a hair band. She ties her hair up and steps out of the room.

The hallway is dark, illuminated only by the pale moonlight filtering in through the sweeping windows. Lou's hand moves to the back of her shorts, gently gripping the butt of the handgun as she walks around the upper floor, checking and double checking the windows and locks.

She passes by Debbie's room, gently opening the handle before she peeks inside. She notices Debbie sprawled on the covers, legs tucked haphazardly in around the covers. Lou waits a moment, before she closes the door again and takes and deep breath. _She's safe,_ she tells herself, _no one is going to hurt her, Lou. You took care of that, remember? Don't you remember what you did to make sure she'd never get hurt?_

"Stop it," Lou mutters to herself as she shakes her head. "Stop."

She makes her way down the steps and does one round around the main floors before she walks into the garage and flicks on the light. The floodlights turn on, one by one, revealing Lou's old mustang and some car parts. A small gym sits at the side, and beside it, her boxing bag. Lou tapes up her hands as she walks in, each step punching out the voices in her head as she reaches the dusty, well-worn bag in five long strides.

_Tell me where he is._

Lou takes a deep breath and squares up.

_All of this isn't worth it. Just tell me where he is._

Lou strikes forward, landing a powerful punch that sends the bag flying backwards. She steadies the bag, leaning her forehead against it as the panic settles in her bones, miserably trying to pull her back to the past, to drown in those godawful memories until she can't breathe.

_You killed him, Lena. Remember that._

Lou growls and starts punching, not caring if she can't feel her knuckles after a few minutes. Lou punches harder and harder, fighting the itch which burns for something more than the narcotics. She feels sweat bead down her forehead as she keeps at it, not stopping until she can't hear anything but a numb ringing in her ears. The voices become less clear, more muffled. The images become duller until she can't see anymore.

"What did the bag ever do to you?"

Lou grabs at her gun and whips around faster than she can react, heaving and wide-eyed.

"Jesus," Constance whispers as she backs up, staring at the gun with her hands raised. " _Lou_ , it's me."

"Fuck," Lou huffs out, lowering the gun and shaking her head. "How the fuck did you get in here, Constance?!"

"Debbie let me in," Constance says warily. "Naturally, I decided to explore since in the year and a half we've known each other you've never invited me over. What the fuck is up with you?"

Lou swallows as she grits her teeth. "Just… knock next time, kid."

"Yeah, funny thing is, I did knock." Constance's voice is heavy with concern, and Lou turns around to avoid her gaze. "Debbie told me that she heard you go into the garage this morning and figured you were tinkering with something. Does she know about this… about the gun? I mean, Jesus, that's intense--"

"Drop it," Lou warns, grabbing a spare towel from her bench and wiping her face. "This isn't something you should worry about."

Constance doesn't waver at the harsh jab. "Have you been drinking again?"

"Constance," Lou growls as she whips around to glare at the shorter woman. "I said, _drop_ it."

Constance looks her over, no doubt noting Lou's dishevelled appearance, but eventually resigns. 

"Fine," Constance says quietly. "But I need an answer to that second question, Lou."

There's a pause, before Lou looks up at her and replies, "not a drop. I swear to it."

They stand in silence for a moment, with Constance just waiting for Lou to crack, but she isn't lying, not about this.

Relief pours over Constance's expression as she nods with a small smile, saying nothing more. It was something Lou had always admired about Constance. Despite being a pickpocket, she knew when to keep her distance instead of sticking her nose into shit she couldn't deal with--snooping aside. Lou just hangs the towel around her neck before she adjusts the shirt over her shorts so the gun is concealed. She walks up to Constance, placing a hand on her shoulder. Constance eyes her carefully before she steps aside so Lou can walk through the doors and into the loft's living room with measured steps.

She walks into the kitchen to see Debbie sipping from a cup of steaming tea in their kitchen, sitting beside Nine Ball and Amita. If Debbie's concerned, she sure as hell doesn't show it. Instead, the other woman just arches her brow curiously at her dishevelled state. Lou looks away, not wanting to start a discussion she knows won't end well. She's grateful for Amita glancing over Nine Ball's shoulder to her, lips cracking into a wide smile.

"Lou!" Amita greets her cheerfully, "it's been so long since I've seen you! How've you been?"

Constance winces from beside her, but Lou doesn't pay her any attention. "I'm good. You?"

Amita shrugs, glancing between Lou and Debbie as she replies, "I mean, I'm still stuck with my mother, so there's that." 

"Shame," Lou whistles as she walks into the kitchen to grab a water bottle. "Still no luck on the marriage front, huh?" She rummages around the cabinets as she grabs at some painkillers she'd stowed away in the back before knocking a few back and downing it with some water. She turns and leans against the counter, bringing the water glass to her lips, ignoring how Debbie's eyes flit between the medicine cabinet and her bloodied, taped knuckles.

Amita groans, huffing in annoyance. "Don't even get me started! Ever since my sister got married, it was like she just…"

Lou tunes out Amita's shrill voice as she jumps head-first into whatever rant she's on. Her eyes follow Debbie's gaze, trained on the bloodied sports-tape wrapping her knuckles. Turning away nervously, she reaches for the tabs on the tape before she unfurls the soft material so that it pools onto the counter, revealing the raw skin of her knuckles. The painkillers have started to kick in, to numb the dull ache in her fists as she holds her hands out over the sink. Amita is still droning on in the background, oblivious to Lou's inattention. Lou turns the tap on, letting the water run as she lets her bloodied knuckles rinse under the stream. Crimson paints the inside of the stainless steel sickeningly, and Lou suddenly feels overwhelmed at the sight of the dripping red.

_You are made of blood and fire, my dear, and don't you ever forget it._

"Lou?" 

Lou looks up, swallowing thickly as Amita and Debbie both glance over at her with loaded glances. Debbie's gaze is more guarded, harder to decipher, but Lou doesn't have the patience or the willpower to unpack the cloudiness which takes over Debbie's brown eyes. Instead, she just swallows thickly, turning the tap off as she wipes her hands on a dishrag. Behind the two women, Nine Ball and Constance are whispering in low voices, eyeing her ever so often.

Blinking her attention back to Amita, she chokes out, "yes? Something the matter?"

"You okay?" Amita asks. "We've been calling your name for like two minutes."

Lou looks back down to her hands, blinking as the blood covering them vanishes. "Oh. Yeah… sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sink."

Amita looks hesitant, but when Lou looks over to Debbie, she can see that the Ocean isn't buying it.

But Lou doesn't care. She can only do so much to hide the demons in her head. "I'll shower and then be down. When's everyone getting here?"

"Noon," Debbie asks, apprehension underlying her tone. "Tammy's coming, too."

Lou hums at that, not in the slightest bit surprised. "Is she now?"

"Is that going to be a problem?" Debbie asks, with no regard for how Constance and Amita are staring at them confusedly. Lou looks up and shoots an unimpressed glance at Debbie for asking such a jaded question. She bundles up the tape before throwing it in the garbage without a second glance.

"It's fine," Lou says with a shrug, her mind lost elsewhere. "it'll be good to reconnect, I suppose."

* * * 

Reuniting with Tammy is awkward to say the least.

They have a history, one tangled and messy beyond means.

But, at the end of the day, Lou still carries a warmth and loyalty towards Tammy, and she knows that Tammy respects her just as much. But just because they are on even playing terms, it doesn't mean that their pasts still aren't present. Lou hasn't forgotten old words and icy words, buried beneath layers of complicated versions and details of their revived friendship. She remembers Tammy and Debbie, the three years where she felt like she'd been cut out of the one actual stable thing she'd managed to keep in her entire life, without even a choice in the matter.

When Tammy walks into her loft, Lou doesn't acknowledge her much other than a simple nod and smile.

And of course, their interaction--or lack thereof--isn't unnoticed by one Deborah Ocean.

"So this is place," Lou says as she looks to the women they've selected for the heists, crowded in her living room with their duffle bags and belongings. "All of your rooms are on the top floor. Due to the nature of the fact that this is not, in fact, a hotel, Constance and Nine Ball, you'll be sharing the first room on your right, next to mine. Tammy will be beside you, then Rose, and I believe Amita you are in the room closest to Debbie, on the left. Feel free to move about if you want, I don't particularly care." The women all look around the loft, wide-eyed and overwhelmed at the massiveness of the place. Lou gives them a minute to adjust, patiently waiting for questions.

Which, of course, are started off by Constance.

"What's in the locked room?" Constance asks, looking over at the padlock like a flashy wristwatch. Lou's face sours as she swallows thickly, not dwelling on the subject as she clears her throat.

"Off-limits," she replies, leaving no room for debate--even if it piques the attention of Debbie, Constance, and Nine Ball. "Anything else?"

"Do you have heated blankets?" Amita asks, shivering. "Or like a heating fan thing? Or just a mini sun?"

Constance side-eyes her, scoffing. "It's like end of April, dude. Summer's almost here."

"I'm of Indian descent. My people are used to living in the sweltering heat."

"Aren't you born and raised here?" Debbie asks, biting back laughter as she arches her brow. Amita rolls her eyes, grumbling.

"Alright," Lou says as she draws their attention back to her. "If that's over with, settle your stuff and let's get started."

* * * 

"You going to tell me what the hell is up with you and Tammy?"

Lou looks up from where she's seated on the staircase to Debbie with her hands on her hips. Lou casts a glance to where Tammy is standing near the couch talking to Nine Ball in low voices. Lou observes her for a distance, noting the lightness in Tammy's posture, the crow's feet under her eyes.

"Lou?"

"What?" Lou sighs, gazing back up at Debbie. "Look, there's a lot you don't know, Debs. You were gone a long time."

Debbie takes the information in with a hesitant expression. "Should I be worried?"

At this, Lou frowns. "About what?"

"This--whatever it is--affecting the job?"

Lou scoffs, shaking her head as she stands up and shoves the lighter she'd been fiddling with back into her pocket. After all these years, she had expected Debbie to be different, to be reformed, to appreciate what she had left behind, but maybe she had been foolish to hope. It makes her realize the toll to which their roles had flipped over the last few years; when they'd first met, Debbie was this wide-eyed, innocent thing, who cared for Lou, not for heists. Sure, she'd always wanted to live up to her brother's name, but never to the extent where it drove her near-mad with determination and guile.

"You know," Lou says as she pauses mid-step to gaze over her shoulder at Debbie sadly, "this isn't everything. It's just a job."

Debbie's brows narrow. "It's more than just a job, Lou, and if you can't be bothered to give me one-hundred percent--"

"Then what?" Lou asks with another sad chuckle. "You'll leave again? Find someone better?"

"That's low," Debbie growls, reeling backwards slightly. "I left because you were too drunk to accept that you needed help."

"Fuck you," Lou snarls as she steps into Debbie's space. "You left me, not just for a job, but for someone else."

"Is that supposed to somehow be worse than how you basically walked out on me the day we met?" Debbie asks spitefully as she shoves her index finger out, jabbing it into Lou's shoulder. "God fucking knows why my brother picked you of all fucking people to partner me with, because you have always been a selfish, deadbeat, coldhearted coward."

Lou stiffens, tears welling in her eyes as Debbie's anger makes itself known in overwhelming torrents. Lou's shoulders are trembling and her ears are ringing, and suddenly all she can do is look back over to the padlocked door, her heart pounding rapidly.

"I need to go," Lou rasps out, stumbling backwards as she blinks tears from her eyes. "I-I need…"

"To rob a liquor store?" Debbie asks sarcastically. "I know your relationship with sobriety, Lou. It's like any of your relationships-- _non-existent_."

Oddly enough, that hurts worse than anything Debbie's ever said so far.

 _She's right_ , she hears herself think, _it won't last. You aren't strong enough, you never were._

"That's _enough_ , Deborah."

Both Debbie and Lou turn to face Tammy and Nine Ball staring down at them.

Nine Ball looks absolutely furious, but Tammy's hand on her elbow prevents her from coming forward and saying anything. But, when Lou's eyes shift to Tammy's, she's surprised to see the seething glare pointed at Debbie instead of her. It then registers, as Tammy slowly stalks towards them and takes her place in front of Lou--a sight that has Debbie's brows raising to the ceiling--that it was _Tammy_ who had said those three words, not Nine Ball. Lou stays frozen, shoulders hunched in a defensive and wary cower, as she inches closer to Tammy on reflex.

Then, Debbie finally finds her voice as she chuckles sarcastically. "Excuse me--and maybe I'm going insane--but are you seriously taking _her_ side, Tammy?"

"I'm not taking _anyone's_ side," Tammy informs her in a calm, but still irate voice. "But you need to cool it, Debbie. Seriously."

"Tam," Lou says quietly, shrugging as she regains her composure and straightens. "It's fine--she has a point, anyways."

_Did you honestly think, after everything, you deserved to be loved?_

Lou shakes the voice from her head as her lungs constrict. She can't look at Debbie, because she will answer the question.

And she won't like the answer.

"No," Tammy growls, turning on Lou this time with a mix of sympathy and anger in her eyes. "She can't talk to you like that."

"That's odd," Debbie interrupts, still confused. "Because I remember it was _you_ telling _me_ that I deserved better, Tammy."

Lou winces at that, unable to fathom the hurt which stabs at her heart when Tammy flinches and looks down. Debbie, knowing that she's sunken her claws into the right wound, bounds forward and steps between the two of them, a sarcastic smile pulling at her lips as she eyes them both with a soft chortle.

_My dear, people like us, we aren't built to love… we're built for war._

Lou looks back over to the padlocked door, swallowing nervously. She doesn't notice Nine Ball following her gaze, or the concerned expression which fills the other woman's eyes. Lou swallows thickly, trying to tear her eyes away from the tunnel vision, the fading of everything else except the screams--

"You told me that Lou was an alcoholic," Debbie continues to say, snapping Lou to the present. "You told me that she was going to ruin the both of us."

_Scream as loud as you want, no one will come for you._

"Stop," Tammy whispers, pleadingly looking between Debbie and Lou--who refuses to meet either of their gazes. "Debbie, please."

_You're alone, my dear, just like I made you to be._

"What changed?" Debbie casually asks as she then looks to a still-panicking Lou without an ounce of concern. Barely noticeable jealousy coats her tone as she asks, "did you two fuck or something?"

"Alright, boss lady. I think that's enough for today," Nine Ball cuts in sharply, stepping into Debbie's field of vision, blocking her from Lou's gaze. "A lot of things happened in the five years that you've been gone, but those stories will come out when they're ready to come out. We focus on this job, and then we can do show-and-tell as much as you like. Right now, we need to be a team if y'all are gonna want to get anything done. Leave them both alone, Ocean. This is beyond you, trust me."

_No one loves you, and no matter how many times you change your name, no one ever will._

Debbie looks ready to say something more, but when Nine Ball gives her a seething glare, she steps back and nods, biting her tongue for now. "Fine. I'll back down, alright?"

"Lou?" Nine Ball asks, softly now. Lou swallows and looks down to see her hands shaking violently. "Do you need some water--"

"I have to go," Lou says, the finality making all three of them freeze. "I have to go, _now_."

Lou doesn't wait for a response as she bolts past them, barely grabbing her helmet and jacket before she goes.

* * * 

_Tell me again, where is he?_

_You're torturing yourself for nobody, for someone who betrayed your family?_

_Where is he, girl? Tell me and no one else has to get hurt._

_Not even you._

* * * 

It was three in the morning when Lou had received the call.

She'd been drinking, but not enough to be incoherent and unstable to hear the panic and terror in Tammy's screams.

_"He's so angry, Lou, I don't know what to do--no, Teddy, no stop it, please oh God, Lou help--"_

Lou had never driven so quickly before in her entire life to get to the suburbs where Tammy was holed up in her bedroom, covering her kids with both arms as her drunken husband swore and threw himself at the door with every ounce of strength he possessed, baseball bat in one hand and beer bottle in the other. Lou had climbed through an open window and followed the sound of his low timbre, anger building inside of her chest until it exploded at the sight of him. Teddy had just managed to kick Tammy's door down, but before he could enter, Lou launched herself at him.

The two of them fell to the floor, the bottle clattering and breaking into pieces upon contact. Lou had half a second to look up to make sure Tammy was unharmed, and aside from the handprint on her left cheek and the slight bruising on her right eye, she looked alright. Both the kids were trembling, crying behind Tammy's back as she attempted to shield them from Teddy's violent outburst, but Lou, still somewhat tipsy herself, didn't anticipate his reflexes.

Within an instant, Teddy had jutted his elbow back, smashing it into her ribs and sending her sprawling backwards with a wheezed breath. Muttering curses, Teddy extricated himself from their tangled bodies and leapt up, gripping the bat tighter in his hands as he approached Tammy, wild-eyed.

"I'll fucking kill you," Teddy snarled as he raised the bat. "I'll kill you, you fucking bitch!"

Before he could swing it downwards and onto a cowering Tammy, Lou jumped up from behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck and slamming him into the wall with a harsh thud before turning over to her shoulder to growl at Tammy through gritted teeth, "grab the children and go, Tammy. _Now_." 

Tammy hesitated and Teddy acted, kicking at Lou's knee cap before raising his hand and punching her in the nose.

"You brought your little bitch?" Teddy chuckled, spitting as he reached down for his bat before swinging at Lou, who barely managed to avoid the hit. "I gave you _everything_ , Tamara. A house with a picket fence, two fucking children, all the money in the world, and you had the audacity to bring _her_ here?"

Lou grabbed the tip off the bat on the next swing, wincing as the vibrations shot down her arm before she tore the object away. Leaping to her feet, Lou jabbed the bat out handle-first, slamming it into Teddy's gut and sending the man backwards. Casting the bat aside, Lou felt that familiar energy course through her veins, and suddenly, she wasn't in Tammy's house, fighting with Tammy's husband as her friend hid her children behind her back in terror.

No, Lou was in that metal warehouse, surrounded by the smell of gunpowder and blood, staring at the cause of her nightmares like she'd never left them in the first place.

"Tammy," she'd said in a low voice, her knuckles cracking as she'd stepped closer to a prone Teddy. "Get out. Now."

That time, Tammy hadn't hesitated, and when Lou was left alone with the bastard, she found herself falling into that nightmare.

She reached down for one of the glass pieces on the floor and inched closer, the room fading away until it was just the two of them.

And then, it all went black and Lou wasn't _Lou_ anymore.

When she'd emerged from the room hours later, she was blood-spattered and hazy.

Blood coated the glass shard still warm in her palm, but it wasn't hers. Walking into the living room, Lou saw Tammy, childless now as she gazed upon Lou in a mixture of awe and horror. Lou paused mid-step, her eyes meeting Tammy's in an unspoken conversation, and when Tammy's lips quivered and a broken sob left her cracked lips, Lou knew that Tammy understood the gravity of the situation. She didn't move forward when Tammy fell to her knees, holding her head in her hands as she quivered into a mess, shoulders trembling and aching as she let out a curdling sob.

"He… he touched them," Tammy gasped between breaths, "I never knew… all those times I left them alone… he would _force_ them… oh God, Lou, they never told me because he… he would…"

Lou's grip tightened on the glass shard as Tammy looked up at her, defeated and guilty. "I never knew, my own husband, the father of my children, was a fucking _pedophile_ \--"

"It's over now," Lou told her coldly. "He won't touch _anyone_ again, Tammy."

Tammy didn't say anything as she'd looked down to the shard, her vision blurring with tears once more. "Lou--"

Lou shook her head, looking around the room. "Where are the children?"

"I called Tess," Tammy hiccuped between breaths, "they're with her right now. God, I'm such a terrible mother--"

"No," Lou corrected her quietly, "you didn't know. You couldn't have known. It will be alright, Tammy. It's over."

Tammy choked through a few more sobs before she finally looked up again, worrying her bruised lip. "What happens now?"

And Lou will never forget the sliver of fear in Tammy's expression when Lou had firmly replied, "be with your children. I'll take care of this."

Tammy had wanted to fight against it, but she _didn't_.

Lou had wanted to be free from this life, but she _wasn't_.

That night, when she'd hailed a cab and dropped Tammy off at Tess' place, she'd driven to the nearest Home Depot. Before she entered the store, she'd cleaned up, made herself look unsuspicious as she gathered the necessary materials she needed and hailed a cab back to Tammy's house. She entered the living room, tidying up the blood. She disposed of the bat and the knife in the backyard, deep under the soil and roots to never be found. She grabbed a massive plastic tub she'd purchased, cleaning it out before she set it aside in the middle of the bedroom.

Then, after she unceremoniously dumped Teddy's cold body into the tub, she uncapped the hydrofluoric acid and poured it over the corpse with a blank expression, unperturbed by the smell. And Lou waited, hours and hours, without a wince, as the body dissolved into nothing and the tub was filled with only red. It felt too surreal, like she was back there again, doing _his_ dirty work…

After nothing was left, Lou disposed of the materials and cleaned the remaining splatters of blood from the walls and the floors of the bedroom. When she was finished, the house looked virtually untouched, typical and primed for a family to live and thrive without worry. When she was finished with everything, she texted Tammy, asking her what she wanted to do with it now it was cleaned.

When Tammy hadn't replied, Lou took action for her, renting a U-Haul and packing up all of Tammy and her children's things before returning to Tess' house. Danny's ex-girlfriend hadn't been entirely too pleased to see her, but upon her returning with Tammy's things, she'd lightened considerably, especially given the context they'd found themselves in. James and Kara, Tammy's children, greeted her warily, but after Lou had shown them their untouched toys and storybooks, they'd all but flung themselves at her in gratitude. Tammy had lingered in the doorway, a guilty, ashamed expression still eating away at her, but Lou had shaken her head, chin jutted up.

"Everything is taken care of," she'd said later that night, after the children and Tess were asleep. "What do you want to do with the house?"

"I don't even want to think of that house," Tammy said, hands shaking around a glass of water. "I can't go back there."

"Then you won't," Lou assured her. "I'll put it on the market. Like we used to back in the day, except the buyers actually get the house."

Tammy's brow had furrowed in confusion as she dropped her voice to a whisper. "Lou, but what about Teddy?"

"Gone," Lou said without hesitation, "not a single trace to tie him to me or you. I told you I would take care of it and I did."

"Jesus," Tammy swore, holding her head in her trembling hands. "How the fuck did I let it get this far…"

"Tammy," Lou called out to her gently, reaching across to tangle their fingers together. "I know this is new to you, but it isn't to me. This--as awful and terrifying as it may seem to you--is what I was raised doing for the majority of my childhood. You don't have to deal with Teddy again, and no one will come after you. You and your children are safe, I promise you that. We will find you a new place to relocate, and I swear to you, if you ever need me, I will be there within an instant. Got it?"

Tammy looked up to her, still wary and scared, but she nodded nonetheless. "Okay… okay…"

"Good," Lou had said as she stood up. "I'd better get going, then."

Tammy was about to reply when the pattering of small feet interrupted their conversation. The two women turned to see Kara padding into the room, a teddy stuck under her arm while her other fist blinked the sleep from her eyes. She'd stopped mid-step, peering up at Lou towering over at her. Adjusting, Lou had knelt in front of the little girl, offering her a small smile and a warm cock of her head which helped ease the tension in the little girl's frame.

"Are you leaving?" Kara asked her, voice quivering. "B-But I'm scared, W'ou, and my tummy doesn't feel good."

"Hush little one," Lou hummed, reaching out to draw the young girl into her arms. "Your mother is safe and so are you. Remember what I told you?"

Kara nodded against Lou's shoulder, pressing herself closer. Lou smiles and pecks her sleep-mussed hair. "Good, now give your mother a hug and then have a glass of warm milk, it will help with the funny feeling in your tummy. If you still feel scared, you can call me, and I'll tell you another story, okay?"

Kara smiled this time, and Lou mimicked the facial expression as she squeezed the girl one more time. "Come on, sweet pea."

Lou stood and watched as Kara clambered into Tammy's lap, wrapping her arms around Tammy's waist while the younger blonde peered up at her, teary-eyed and grateful beyond words. Lou watched them with a longing feeling in her chest, aching for her own missed childhood. She doesn't remember the feeling of a mother's comfort, only the icy hand of her father's palm against her back, pushing her into a life she'd never wanted, but was trained for.

It was in that moment, when Lou watched Tammy wrap her arms around Kara's small shoulders and draw her closer in protection, Lou realized something.

Alcohol wasn't a mother she'd never had. It wasn't a warm glass of milk to ease her troubles. It wasn't a good night sleep or a means of forgetting.

It was a vicious poison, and Lou had been letting it infect her for too long.

It was that night Lou decided it was time to suck the venom from her veins and to start again.

* * * 

Lou stares out at the water rippling on the shore from where she sits, lighter nervously flicking in her hands.

She'd ridden her bike around the city aimlessly for hours, staying clear of bars and casinos and anything which may lead her back into the life of temptation. Eventually, she found herself back at her loft, at the rocky shore overlooking the New York bay, under the dim light of the moon and the stars. Because the area where she lived was practically abandoned (Lou wasn't even sure if she had neighbours, her loft was essentially an abandoned warehouse, after all), there weren't as many lights to snuff out the natural sparkle of the stars and the constellations. She cranes her neck upwards, mapping out Orion, Cassiopeia, Ursa Major and Minor--she follows the curve of the Big Dipper and stares out at the random blinking of airplanes fading in and out of view.

"Want some company?"

Lou startles slightly, glancing over her shoulder to see Tammy standing behind her, wrapped in a light sweater. Her cheeks are blotchy and her eyes are reddened, but she looks otherwise unharmed. Lou rises in worry regardless, pocketing her lighter as she gives Tammy a good once over to make sure--

"I'm okay," Tammy whispers softly, reassuringly, before she steps closer. "I just had a heated discussion with Debbie."

"Oh," Lou says, nodding, looking away. "Is Debbie okay?"

"Really?" Tammy asks, scoffing sadly as she takes a seat where Lou'd been perched on a concrete slab. "You're concerned for her?"

"Prison's changed her," Lou says, shrugging as she sits next to Tammy. "It's made her focused. Danny's death couldn't have helped either."

" _Focused_ ," Tammy laughs bitterly, shaking her head. "Wouldn't say I'd use that word."

_Tell me where he is. I won't ask you again._

Lou shakes her head, running a hand through her tangled blonde knots as she wills herself to stay calm. Tammy just gives her a knowing look before she inches closer so their shoulders brush. Lou picks at her fingernails nervously, staring at the ground as she kicks at a few rocks. Lou feels the burning in her chest, and she knows that it's that residual pit of sadness which is threatening to tide her over. It's the years of loneliness and pain with no relief. She tries to remember the last time she's fallen asleep without waking up in a pool of sweat, or feeling genuine happiness, or the comfort of safety and warmth.

"I never thanked you," Tammy says, interrupting the tranquil moment. "For what you did for me, almost two years ago."

Lou smiles sadly, glancing over at her. "I won't let _anyone_ touch you, Tim-Tam."

"I'm sorry," Tammy chokes out, tears pooling in her eyes as she chokes on a sob. "For everything I said to you, thought of you, so long ago. I was wrong. I was so wrong. I just… I never wanted you to feel like you were alone. You were one of my best friends, Lou. You still are, even if you don't see me the same. It took you protecting me and my children from my shitty, abusive, son-of-a-bitch ex-husband to see it. I was so incredibly wrong and I'm _sorry_."

"It's okay," Lou says with a shrug. "Loneliness is something I'm used to."

"You shouldn't be," Tammy argues, wiping away a trailing tear as she reaches down to fold her hands in Lou's slightly larger ones. "You deserve so much more than what this world has dealt you, Lou. You deserve peace, whatever that may be, and if you need to step away from this job to do that--"

"I'm fine," Lou says, swallowing thickly as she gives Tammy's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I know what I'm doing."

 _I don't,_ she thinks as she looks to Tammy's sympathetic gaze. _I never did._

"I'm here for you," Tammy whispers as she leans over to peck Lou's cheek softly. "No matter what you need. I'm here, Lou."

Lou just nods, not sure if she could come up with the words even if she'd tried. Instead, she just unlatches their hands and smiles, but it cracks as she can't hold it together. Her lungs are on fire and her shoulders quake violently as she tries to pull herself together. But each time she blinks, she's not sitting outside the loft, untethered and free to the pull of the tide; no, each time her eyes close, she's chained to that room, begging to be released, to run away and to be at peace…

"Lou," Tammy rasps as she reaches up to cup Lou's tear-stained cheeks. "What's going on?"

Lou lets her shoulders slump, her walls crumble, as she looks up to her friend to whisper, "sometimes, it just hurts so much, Tammy."

Tammy's face falls sadly as her thumbs uselessly swipe at Lou's tears. "What hurts, honey?"

Lou just shakes her head again, looking down in anguish.

" _Everything_." 

* * * 

Lou stays clear of Debbie, bar for team meetings and other organized events.

She doesn't drink, but each night she stays clear of the bottle, she also stays clear of sleep.

One night, it's Rose who finds her in the dim light of her kitchen wading through pointless paperwork for her club with glasses offset on her nose and bags under her eyes. For all of her nerves and quirks, Rose is nearly silent as she pads gently into the room, making her steps light enough to not make Lou startle, but to also let her know that she is there.

"Restless?" Lou asks in a low murmur, gazing up from the papers to see Rose smiling over at her. Rose just nods, settling in the chair beside Lou timidly. They'd both gotten along well, with Rose gravitating towards her over Debbie, somehow almost for comfort rather than for advice or other matters.

"Thought I could sit," Rose hums in her Irish drawl. "I'm seeing the Toussaint tomorrow--today, I suppose."

"Big day," Lou says with a nod, "nervous?"

"Constantly," Rose chuckles with a small smile. "But especially so for tomorrow. I don't want to disappoint Deborah."

"Hey," Lou hums as she sets her glasses down to reach over to take Rose's soft hands into her own. "You will do your best, and that is all you can do. If you can't get it, we will figure something else out. Leaving Debbie to me, okay?" Rose tries to look convinced, but Lou can see that she's still afraid.

"Deb and I go back," Lou says again, leaning back. "I'll work something out."

"You don't need to do that dear," Rose tells her with a gentle shake of her head. "I know you two aren't on the best terms at the moment."

Lou swallows thickly, looking away. "It's a rough patch, but nothing we can't get through."

"History does that to the best of us," Rose says with a sigh. "I had a friendship like yours and Deborah's once. She was my other half, someone that I trusted with my life, but we drifted apart because she went on to greater things while I fell into a slump. She didn't come back, and when I'd finally gotten on my feet to a degree, she was someone else entirely. The years that had passed between us had driven us to become two different people. We're _still_ two different people." 

Rose then fumbles in her pockets and pulls out a small coin with the roman numeral VII inscribed on it, offering it to Lou. "I know how hard the battle against your own inner demons can be," she says in a low voice, afraid to let the words grow. "Every month is a victory, Lou. Do not forget that."

Lou's eyes water as she looks up to Rose, who nods and smiles encouragingly. "I do not know what you've been through, dear, but I do see myself in you somedays. Lonely, afraid, made brittle and cold by a world so unforgiving and harsh. But there is light inside of you, a warmth so strong and pure. No matter what anyone has ever told you, there is still hope for you yet. Love works in mysterious ways, and I know things may not be ideal at the moment, but perhaps the future has great something in store for you. It all depends on your strength to bring yourself to fight long enough to live through it."

"Thanks," Lou says softly, "it means a lot, Rose. Seriously."

Rose just smiles, nodding as Lou hands the coin back reverently. "I don't know if you have a sponsor, but if you ever need anything, you have a friend in me dear. I'm no Deborah, but I can do my best to help you as best I can. You've been nothing but kind and generous to me since I've arrived, Lou."

Lou leans over to peck Rose's unruly mess of curls atop her head fondly. "You're a great friend, Rose."

A blush spreads on the Irishwoman as she smiles sheepishly before she stands up, looking at the clock. "Best suppose I head to bed now. I have an early start tomorrow morning, and Amita is coming with me to visit Cartier. I'll be sure to drink some of that chamomile tea you keep around, if you don't mind."

"What's mine is yours," Lou reassures her with a smile, "now get some rest, Rose."

* * *

_Let me tell you this again, if you don't answer, there will be repercussions._

_Give me his location and all of this could go away._

_You will have to answer me soon, because even_ you _can't keep this up forever._

* * * 

"I ever tell you that I hate clubs?"

"It's a good thing you didn't go into the business then, honey."

Lou doesn't look up from where she's standing behind the bar, peering over Debbie's disgruntled expression to the last few patrons mulling about, swaying to the pounding music as the night comes to a close. Most people didn't stick around past one in the morning, but today was Friday and Lou supposed that even she deserved to unwind. It wasn't the ideal place to meet, but Debbie needed a change of scenery and was desperate to take a look at Lou's successful semi-legal career. She was nursing her favourite drink, a dry martini with a single green olive, looking more out of place than Lou's ever seen her.

"You did well," Debbie observes as she looks back to where Lou counts and recounts her inventory. "It's impressive, given your situation."

"I never was one to make things easy for myself," Lou chuckles as April hands her another case of top-shelf liquor. "Thanks, babe."

April blushes and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Anytime, Lou. Need anything else?"

"No," Lou says with a half-smile. "You can head out. Tell the girls I'll lock up."

April nods and turns around, adding an extra flair to her swaying hips as she disappears into the back room.

"Snatching from the cradle now, are you?"

Lou blinks up from her crate to see Debbie gazing at her with an unreadable expression, but she can detect the tone in her partner's voice.

"Jealous, Debs?" Lou asks, smirking. Debbie rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her drink, looking back out to the club. Lou sighs tiredly, setting the crate of booze on the shelf behind her before she leans over the counter to draw Debbie's attention back to her with a soft rap of her knuckles on the bar counter.

"What?" Debbie asks, irritated. "Lou, if you want to fuck a _teenager_ , that's up to you--"

"I'm not fucking her," Lou says as she leans back. "I'm not fucking anyone, actually."

Debbie makes a face before she chuckles. "Celibacy doesn't look good on you, Lou."

"Yeah well, according to that, I must be ugly as shit then," Lou mutters as she looks away, drawing Debbie's interest once more. There's an awkward pause which settles between them, before Debbie frowns, finally understanding the weight of her words while Lou picks at her fingernails nervously.

"Wait," Debbie says quietly, leaning forward. "You've never…"

"I hate to be one of those people, but I'm focused on myself right now," Lou says, unashamed but still wary. "Not a lot of time for fucking when you're dealing with unresolved childhood trauma and maladaptive coping patterns, you know." Debbie flushes, looking slightly guilty as she drops her gaze.

"You maybe fucked Claude, but I never…," Lou chokes on the words, gritting her teeth as pain flares in her chest. She can't even finish the statement because all she can feel and hear is the sound of her own heart thudding against the wall of her ribs, screaming to be set free.

"I'm sorry," Debbie says, running her fingers around the rim of the martini glass. "I didn't mean to overstep."

Lou scoffs, shaking her head as she blinks back tears. "But you somehow do, don't you? I mean, what happened to us, Debbie? I can't have a conversation with you without it turning into some passive-aggressive stand off. We used to work so well together. We were best friends, Deb. I… I lo--"

She cuts herself off, praying that Debbie doesn't notice, but it goes answered when she watches Debbie's head shoot up.

"Anyways," Lou says through gritted teeth, gazing away. "We're different people."

"What are you trying to say?" Debbie asks, fingers trembling around the narrow handle of the glass. "Is this your version of breaking this partnership?"

"No," Lou sighs tiredly, rubbing her face. "It's not… I just… Debbie, a lot has happened in the last few years."

Debbie frowns, her face morphing into an expression of concern. "Like what?"

_Your silence killed him, remember that when you see her._

_Remember to tell her that_ you _are the reason he is dead._

"Lou?" Debbie asks again, even more worried than before. "What happened? When I was gone?"

Before Lou can tell her that this isn't the time and place, Nine Ball, Tammy, and Constance walk through the sea of people. Constance is the first to perch on the bar stool next to Debbie without a care for interrupting their conversation. But deep down, Lou knows this isn't the time or place so she's grateful that the young woman burst in when she did. Tammy and Nine Ball take their time, and Lou smiles half-heartedly at the sight of their intertwined fingers.

While Constance talks Debbie's ear off about her concerns for slipping off the Toussaint with the magnet, Lou wanders over to them, nodding to the their hands with a proud grin.

"Finally mustered up the balls to make it official?" She asks, and grins even harder when both Nine Ball and Tammy blush.

"She's good with the kids," Tammy says, blushing harder as Nine Ball gazes at her fondly. "And… she's good to _me_."

Lou's eyes can't help but glance over at Debbie, who is comforting a nervous Constance with a nostalgic burning in her chest.

"Sometimes," Nine Ball cuts in warmly, "that's all you need."

Lou tears her eyes away from Debbie and smiles at them, but they both know it's forced.

"Wouldn't know," Lou says with a shrug, "but I'm sure it is."

* * *  

When Lou finds out Claude Becker is Daphne's date, it's safe to say that she feels numb.

"Lou, wait--"

Lou tunes out Tammy's concerned voice as she stampedes past her and Nine Ball on the computer to the shore where Debbie had been sitting. She storms across the street, her fists tightly clenched at her side as her boots crunch against the rock and stone. Her ankles twist uncomfortably with the uneven ground, but Lou powers through, angered even further when her approach is not noticed by Debbie's relaxed posture and content gaze.

"Hey," Lou growls as she storms into the overlook. "We need to talk."

Debbie only casually turns her head, nonchalant to Lou's irate steps as she approaches. Lou doesn't give her time to respond as she stands in front of her, jaw clenched tightly as the wind blows through her hair, sweeping her bangs to the side. Debbie stands, gives her that much at least, before she lets go.

"You better tell me this is not what I think it is," Lou snarls, struggling to keep her feelings under control. Debbie cocks her head innocently.

"What?" Debbie asks, aloof. But Lou doesn't have time for games, not when so much is on the line in such little time.

"Claude Becker," she spits the name like it's made of poison. Debbie tries to contain her smirk, but it fails.

"I didn't do that," Debbie says, again calm and nonchalant. Lou shakes her head, leaning into Debbie's space with a glare.

"I'm not a croupier, okay?" Lou growls under her breath. "Or a tourist with a bucket of quarters. Don't con me. You do not run a job in a job."

Debbie remains unaffected by Lou's cutting words, staying calm and cool under Lou's fiery gaze. "It's not going to matter." 

Lou feels it all bubbling up again, the night that Debbie had left her, the night she'd followed Debbie only to see her pretending to be a buyer in Becker's gallery. She remembers watching across the street with tears in her eyes as Debbie'd kissed him under the rain, happier than she's ever seen her, left with the most dangerous thoughts in her mind. Thoughts of inadequacy, of inability to provide anything to anyone, of never being _enough_ , and it sinks deeper now, when Debbie is fresh out of prison--put there by the man she's bringing back into this fuck-fest of a job--and she could have anything in the world.

And still, with everything at her fingertips, Debbie chooses _him_.

"We are going to get caught," Lou opts to say instead, looking out to the tide.

Debbie sighs, shaking her head. "Stop it," she says with a bit of a bite. "We're not."

Lou turns away, knowing that if she looks at Debbie any longer she runs the risk of losing whatever iron-clad grip she has left on her emotions. She takes a few steps back, breathing in the salty air of the bay, trying to calm herself. Finally, she turns back, the fight suddenly disappearing from her veins.

"Why do you do this?" Lou asks, tired now from holding back her anger and disappointment. "Why can't you just do a job? Why does there always have to be an asterisk?" But when Debbie's only response to her questions is a smug, almost cocky shrug and slight pout of her lips, Lou finally loses it.

"You frame him, I walk."

The threat erases any trace of arrogance from Debbie's face, and when Lou turns around, she almost doesn't turn around to Debbie's voice.

"Stop," Debbie says, serious now. "Lou--"

"This is just like last time," Lou finally admits, defeated as she backs away. "You left me then and you'll leave me now. That's who you are, Debbie."

With that, Lou turns on her heel and walks towards the bay, fighting back against the tears pooling in her eyes and the itch in the back of her throat. She wants to cry, to sob her eyes out, but nothing comes out. She's numb, finally having gotten used to the pain of being used and discarded like she's nothing. And maybe, Lou thinks bitterly as she hears Debbie's reluctant footsteps follow behind her, maybe she _is_ nothing, and this is all a sham and he was right all along.

"Stop," Debbie says again, her voice shaking slightly. "Just stop for a minute, Lou."

"Why did you leave?" Lou asks, suddenly uncaring of wanting to wait for this discussion. "Besides the drinking and the lack of purpose, why'd you do it?"

Debbie stops at that, looking away nervously. "You don't want me to answer that, Lou."

Lou just laughs instead, shaking her head. "I think we're past the point of acknowledging what I _want_ , Debbie."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Debbie asks, glaring back up at her with a reignited fire in her dark eyes. "You think you're the only one who suffered, Lou? He put me in prison for five and a half years. You have no idea what that's like." And Lou has to fight to not tell Debbie the truth.

"Right," she says instead, scoffing. "I don't."

"What happened?" Debbie asks, the anger leaving her voice for a firmness that sends a chill down Debbie's spine. "When I was gone, what happened to you? I know you came to my trial, and I know that you'd kept in touch with Danny, he told me that before he…"

Debbie doesn't finish the statement, her voice closing up as she navigates around the truth. "Anyways… you were right, we are different, but most of all, you're different, Lou. You're so cold and far away, and every time I look at you, it's like you're on a different planet. What happened to you to make you disappear from me, Lou?"

"You really want to know?" Lou asks, finally breaking. "You really want to know what happened?"

"Yes," Debbie pleads, "for fuck's sake, Lou, I can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong."

" _Help me_?" Lou scoffs, leaning backwards. "You think the past few months of bullshit have been _helping_ me, Deborah? What a crock of fucking--"

"You know what," Debbie says, throwing her hands up in defeat. "I'm done. You always do this. I get close, and you just pull away. I'm done with it, Lou. You did this when we were partners, this godawful push-and-pull shit that drove me insane. You really want to know why I left? Well, I'll fucking tell you."

Lou's mouth shuts at the anger flooding through Debbie as she steps forward. "I left, because you were _suffocating_ me."

Clouds start rolling in overhead, darkening the sky as Debbie's anger finally unfolds into a crackling bit of thunder and lightning. Debbie gains confidence as she steps into Lou's space, jutting her chin up as the waves start to churn behind her. She shoves a finger into Lou's shoulder deeply, painfully, until Lou can't breathe and Debbie laughs manically. "I left, Lou, because you were too deep inside that bottle to notice you'd ruined _everything_ you'd ever loved and more."

"Stop," Lou tells her, breath coming quicker than before. "Debbie, please stop."

"You told me your worst nightmare was turning into your father," Debbie says, unrelenting now as the slow drip of rain hits their shoulders. Lou backs up, swallowing nervously as her eyes flick around. She's losing her grip on reality and she needs a drink, she needs sleep, she needs to be reminded that she's okay, that she's safe, but she's not getting any of that when Debbie continues to advance on her. "You never wanted to be like him, Lou, but guess what?"

"Please," Lou croaks now, her back hitting a firm stone wall. " _Stop_."

"You are your worst nightmare," Debbie finally says the words as the rain comes down harder now. "You're just like your father--"

"No!" Lou screams as she shoves her hands out in front of her, pushing Debbie away with a harsh shove which sends the other woman tumbling backwards. The rain is torrential now, but Lou isn't even sure if that's real or if she's imagining it. She's standing in the lot, staring at her hands as they bleed red. She crumbles to her knees and suddenly, it's not the rubble of the stone, the coldness of the ground, but the sharp acrid scent of burning metal and chains.

She's kneeling in front of him, watching as his lips pull into a menacing grin, his eyes lit with pride.

_Did you honestly think you could escape me, Lena?_

"Get away from me!" Lou screams, trying to get her body to move, but it's no use. Her father reaches down and grabs at her collar, kneeling so that she can smell his putrid breath on his lips. He's laughing, his grip unrelenting as he shoves her backwards, placing a boot on her chest until she's scrabbling for breath. Her eyes are wild and wide, her lips turning blue as he pushes down harder, laughing even deeper and more terrifyingly arrogant than before.

Lou keeps thrashing, fighting as her body refuses to cooperate.

But then, a thought sparks in her mind, one she's always had lingering, but never had the courage to act upon.

And so, Lou stops fighting, stops struggling, and lets the pressure extend into her chest. She looks up to her father, defeat swimming in her blurred vision as she stops trying to breathe, stops trying to live, and gives in. She's been alive for almost half a century, but for what? Never-ending pain and struggle?

Debbie doesn't love her. She's haunted by her past. No matter what anyone says, Lou has always and will always be alone.

So what's the point?

 _Giving up?_ Her father snarls down at her in disgust, pushing his boot up against her throat now. _I expected better from you, Lena._

"Kill me," Lou whispers softly, closing her eyes. "It's all you've ever wanted, anyways."

"Get the _fuck_ off of her!" 

That's strange. That's not the sound of her father's voice.

"No Constance, it's not what you think--"

"You piece of shit," she hears Constance's voice bleed into the bizarre vision. Lou opens her eyes again, confused as her father's face morphs from the ashen blonde hair and piercing blue eyes to wavy brown locks and dark eyes. Lou watches, numb from where she's laying on the rocky surface, as the figure is tackled backwards by a smaller blur of dark hair covered by a beanie. There are multiple voices now, and Lou's sure she's losing her mind.

"Lou? Jesus Christ!"

Lou turns her head slowly, swallowing thickly as she gazes at the image of someone running towards her in a panic. 

"I wasn't hurting her! She wasn't breathing properly and I was just trying to help--"

"Shut the fuck up, ever since you got here all you've done is hurt her--"

"I didn't mean to, God, I _never_ wanted to hurt her you have to believe me--"

"That's a load of shit if I've ever heard it before--"

"Constance, let Debbie _go_!" Nine Ball's voice cuts into the fray. "Fuck, Tammy help me with Lou."

"She's going into shock, get her out of that jacket or else she's going to freeze!"

"She wouldn't be freezing if Debbie hadn't fucking cornered her--"

"It wasn't like that! We were fucking talking and then she had a panic attack--"

"Because of you! All you've done is put her on edge, you bitch--"

"Constance, that's enough! Lou? Lou, can you hear me? Jesus, she's trembling. Leslie, help me…"

It's all a muddled mess, and Lou just wants it to end, so she closes her eyes and drowns it out.

The next time she wakes up, it's to the ceiling of her bedroom, and Lou's never felt so _empty_.

* * * 

They waste two days avoiding each other, all of them, before Lou finally calls a group meeting.

"In two days, we're going to be robbing the Met gala."

The ladies all look up at her, haggard and weary from the tension and the involuntary divide that had been created between them. Nine Ball and Constance sit up with confusion, both looking ready to argue that there's no point, but Lou raises her palm and eyes them without an ounce of emotion. It settles a new feeling of unease across the room as Lou steps forward, crossing her arms over her chest and stares them down coldly, callously, unaffectedly.

"You have your jobs, stick to them. We have one shot, and we're not going to lose it."

"Lou," Debbie's voice interrupts, soft and unsure. "You don't have to do this."

Lou just glares in her direction, icy and cruel as she curls her lip in a snarl. "Don't you fucking _dare_ tell me what I do or do not do, Deborah."

Debbie shivers and leans back, nodding as she blinks back tears. Lou turns her eyes away from her to stare at the rest of the women.

"Any questions?" When no one replies, Lou drops her arms and nods, grabbing at her keys and helmet. "Good, then I'm going to take care of some business." She hears everyone mumble worriedly, but when she passes them another glare, they immediately quieten down, knowing they're walking on thin ice.

Lou rides out in the pouring rain, uncaring about how the cold seeps into her bones. In fact, the icy sting is the only thing keeping her focused on her destination. It's late--or early in the morning, Lou isn't sure--by the time she winds her bike up the hilly side roads and pulls up to a cabin in the middle of the woods. She powers off her bike and removes her helmet as she stalks up to the entrance, keeping it tightly gripping in her hand as she lifts her knuckles and raps on the wooden door. She waits, surrounded by the roaring thunder and the pelting storm, until the door finally creaks open.

The man on the other end doesn't even get a chance to recognize her before Lou kicks her leg into his chest, sending him sprawling backwards with a grunt. Lou stalks into the cabin, swinging the arm with the helmet in it forward, violently cracking it against his head. The sickening thud of his head meeting the wood doesn't even churn Lou's guts as she kneels above him, relentlessly hammering the helmet down until his mouth is filled with blood.

"Where is he?" Lou asks, her free hand gripping his throat as she tosses the helmet to the side. "Where the _fuck_ is my brother, Nicholas?"

The man gurgles, eyes hazy and clouded. Lou growls, tightening her grip as she reels him backwards before shoving him into the floor. "Where the fuck is my brother?!"

Nicholas whimpers when Lou knees him in the groin, keeling under Lou's firm grip on his throat. He gasps a few times before he nods. Lou eases her grip as he looks up to her with a wicked glaze in his eyes as he chokes out, "if… if _you've_ f-found me--"

"I don't care if he's coming," Lou growls, her nails stabbing into his skin. "I'll meet him with a gun in my hand and be the first to welcome him."

Nicholas gurgles again, eyes rolling backwards as Lou increases the pressure on his windpipe. "Tell me, you miserable sack of shit, and _maybe_ I'll consider letting you live out the rest of your pitiful days in this hovel until you rot into the earth. Tell me where my brother is and I'll let you go."

"You… you'd n-never," Nicholas chuckles darkly, "you're… y-you're just like him."

"No," Lou mutters as she stands, letting him go so he can wheeze and splutter for air. "I'm worse."

Before Nicholas can question her, Lou steps on his neck and twists her boot, snapping his neck.

"Fucking bastard," Lou snarls at his corpse as she backs away. "I should have killed you long ago."

Lou reaches into the man's pocket for a phone and quickly pockets it, before doing a sweep of the cabin. She gathers anything necessary before she exits the building and slips her helmet back on. She powers on her bike and revs the engine before hauling the machine back onto the dirt road. Her Norton Commando isn't built for this, but she drives it beautifully, in control and steady as she screams down the hill and back onto the main roads. She rides through the traffic-free streets of New York, unperturbed by the wind and biting cold of the rain which is still relentlessly falling against her leathers.

Lou rides, with only one thought left in her mind, as the rain washes the blood from her helmet but not from the skin beneath it.

* * * 

Finally, she reaches the loft again, parking her bike beside her Toyota before she bounds up the steps and unlocks the door.

When she steps inside and flicks on the light, she's greeted by Debbie sitting on the couch, worried as she looks up at her.

"Lou?" Debbie asks softly, almost afraid as she takes in Lou's state. "Oh my god, is that blood?"

"Not mine," Lou says nonchalantly, tossing the helmet on the chaise beside the couch as she stalks into the kitchen to grab a towel. Debbie follows her, steps shaky and unsure as Lou reaches for the cabinet, pulling out a generous collection of pills before she knocks them back with some water. Lou grabs at a spare dishrag and wipes at the blood and bits of flesh coating her face and neck, before she turns to face Debbie with a cold expression.

"What do you want, Deborah?"

"Lou," Debbie whispers with a pained voice, her eyes taking in Lou's stiffened and callous form. "What…"

"You're going to need to move out of the loft when the job's done," Lou says without preamble as she sets the glass down. "It won't be safe."

"Safe?" Debbie echoes in shock. "Lou, what the fuck--"

"Your brother wasn't the only one who had unpaid debts," Lou explains calmly, noting the flinch in Debbie's gaze at the mention of Danny. "When the job is over, he'll know where I am, if he doesn't already. I know he's waiting, and when he gets here, he won't hesitate to destroy everything I've ever loved."

"Lou--"

"I can't let him do that," Lou tells her, brows furrowing as she looks away in guilt. "Not again."

"We could go to the police," Debbie blurts out worriedly, "we could talk to someone, I'm sure--"

"He'll stop at nothing," Lou says as she steps into Debbie's space, quieter now, less edgy. "I won't let him hurt you. I never did, even years ago."

"Lou?" Debbie calls her name in confusion again, swallowing thickly. "Did he…?"

Lou turns away, unable to look at her best friend as she whispers. "He made me choose, Deb. You or Danny."

Debbie freezes, taking a step backwards. "What?"

Realizing that she can't keep it a secret any longer, Lou takes Debbie's hand and drags her across the hall towards the padlocked door of her loft. Debbie follows, though she's shaking harder now, and Lou hates that she can't stop this from unfolding. She reaches into her jacket pocket for the key and shakily plugs it into the slot, before she twists and the bolt comes loose. Lou takes a deep breath, closing her eyes as she wills herself to be strong, to remind herself that she's safe, at least for now, and that this is just a room.

A room plagued with nightmares and hellish memories, but it is just a fucking _room_.

With one last deep breath, Lou reaches for the knob and turns it, opening the door.

Debbie gasps as Lou steps to the side so she can see the inside. After flicking on the light, the inside is revealed.

A single wooden chair its in the middle of moldy tiled-floors, broken wallpaper and two rusted chains attached to the back wall. Dried blood is splattered all around the room like a poorly done art piece. There's a tripod on the opposite end, camera still attached but no longer working (Lou had made sure of that long ago). A smashed intercom lays is on the ground, and behind it is a chest drawer, smeared with years-old bloody hand prints and scratches etched into the wood. 

Lou hates the noise which leaves Debbie's mouth when she finally puts it all together.

"Lou," she croaks on her name, "they…"

"You may have been in prison for five years," Lou says blankly as she stares at the chair and the chains. "But you weren't the only one trapped."

Debbie shakes her head, trembling and gagging as she looks to the destruction around her. "You _live_ here, Lou, this happened where you live--"

"This wasn't my house," Lou interjects with a shrug. "I don't think it was ever a house. It was a warehouse when they brought me here."

"What?" Debbie asks in a croak. "You mean… you mean you choose to stay here?"

"I tried moving away," Lou admits as she looks to the camera. "But I got paranoid that it would happen again, so I just locked the room and reclaimed the warehouse as my residence. I would only leave the room when they told me it was time to take a visit to the past… they'd make me watch the videos of my father's conditioning program. Make me watch myself as a child, killing people without thought and decision. Then they'd make me watch the ones where they'd all tortured and raped me, joking about their favourite parts while I was tied and gagged on the couch, eyelids peeled back, unable to look away."

"Jesus, Lou…," Debbie trails off in disgust and shock, "this is… this is… _fuck_ …"

Lou takes a step into the room, her shoulders quaking as she blocks out the screams of pain and the sheer desperation.

"They made me watch it all, and I had to sit there, on that couch, and force myself to relive my past every fucking night for three years."

"Three years?" Debbie asks, wincing as she looks up at Lou with sadness. "I… Lou, how the _fuck_ can you continue to stay here?"

"Call it what you want, Stockholm Syndrome or whatever, but I didn't have anywhere else," Lou admits bitterly, remembering when she'd first ventured into the city after three years of being held captive, feeling more like the young teenager she'd been on the streets when she'd first arrived in New York. "I had _no one_ else, so I made something of whatever I had left. I did what I had been taught to do since before I was born: I _survived_. Now it's mine, I guess."

Debbie flinches, wiping uselessly at the tears dripping down her cheeks as she whispers, "you're living in your own nightmare."

"He trained me to withstand pain, to suffer," Lou growls as she turns her head away. "And I did. It was the one good thing he ever taught me."

Debbie is silent then, and Lou hates the tension which falls between them at the revealed secret which threatens to pick at Lou's heart until there's nothing left. She's fucked a lot up in her life, but potentially getting her best friend's brother killed for not giving up the location of her _own_ brother was enough for a lifetime.

"When you said it was either me or Danny," Debbie whispers, looking up at her, glassy-eyed. "What did you mean?"

Lou can't speak as she looks to the pleading gaze in Debbie's expression. God, she'd never wanted to bring her into this world.

"Danny stole from my father a few months before your arrest," Lou explains as she wraps her arms around her middle. "That idiot messed with the worst crowd, and my father was determined to make the Ocean name suffer under his thumb. He knew that I was your partner, that I knew Danny, so he came after me." Debbie's eyes glaze with tears again as Lou takes a step backwards to lean against the door frame, eyes wet as she stares at the living room.

"I found Danny before my father did, explained the situation, told him needed to disappear and fast. He didn't believe me, but then Father sent his right-hand man, Nicholas, and threatened to kill you if I didn't hand Danny over," Lou says as her eyes follow a familiar smear of blood on the wall. Debbie inches closer, choking on a sob as Lou shakes her head and closes her eyes. "I knocked him out and told Danny to find my brother so he could get them away."

"Your brother?" Debbie asks, shocked. "But I thought you said you left him at the hospital--"

"I went back, a year or two before we met," Lou tells her sadly. "I found him and brought him here. For all my worth, I managed that at least. Brought him back here because I knew that my father would find him, one way or another, and at least here I could protect him. I should have known better."

"Where are they?" Debbie asks, desperation seeping into her voice as she inches closer. "Is Danny really… is he _dead_ , Lou?"

There's a pregnant pause before Lou looks up to her hopelessly and croaks, "I don't know, Deb. Harry's gone, too."

And Lou can't think of what that might entail. She can't think about Harry's lifeless gaze or Danny's cold body. She can't think about losing the two men she's considered to be her family, not when she'd promised to protect them with everything in her power. She allowed herself to be tortured, to have her mind ripped apart for three years in order to keep their secret. She was sure her father knew that Danny's death was a ploy, but if she didn't know where the two of them were, she doubted he would, either. For all of his resources, he was never as good as finding and tracking someone as Lou had been.

There was a reason why she was his greatest creation, his biggest pride, his successor.

"My father will come," Lou says starkly, staring at the chair in front of her with determination. "And when he does, I'll be ready."

"To do what, Lou?" Debbie asks, bewildered at the darkness in her voice. "You aren't a murderer--"

"I used to think that too," Lou says, looking to her knuckles where Nicholas' blood is crusted upon her skin. "But I've been wrong before."

Debbie follows her gaze and swallows thickly, unsure of how to continue or proceed. Lou lowers her fists and turns to her, the sheer anger she'd once felt minutes ago dissipating into something more solemn, something broken and untethered as she watches Debbie's eyes roam over her face. She knows what Debbie's doing, and despite their years apart, Lou can never forget the face Debbie makes when she's analyzing something, judging something.

"I escaped this room three years ago because I killed the men who held me here," Lou says in a low voice. "They're buried out back, under the ground. The last man, the same man who was hunting our brothers--I killed him today. The only reason I'd ever spared him before is because he might have had information on Danny and Harry, and that if my father was going to send anyone out to find them, it would be him. So the day I escaped, I let him go."

"Jesus," Debbie says with a shiver, cowering under Lou's intense gaze. "Lou--"

"I'm going to find them both," Lou says as she procures the bloodied cellphone from her pocket. "With or without his help."

It's unexpected when Debbie bounds forwards and throws her arms around Lou's neck, hiding her face in the taller woman's skin. Lou's breath hitches as Debbie begins to sob, clutching onto Lou as she struggles to ground herself to the reality Lou's been living in her entire life. Lou, hesitant for half a moment, slowly reaches up to wind her arms around Debbie's trembling shoulders. Debbie noses at her neck as Lou lets herself feel Debbie in her arms for the first time in almost six years. She buries her damp face in Debbie's hair, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender and vanilla, with a hint of spice.

"I'm sorry," Debbie whispers into her neck, her voice watery and guilt-ridden. "I'm sorry they did this to you… all because of _me_."

"I told you, didn't I?" Lou asks softly, scratching at Debbie's scalp soothingly. "Ride or die, Debbie."

Debbie flinches at the connotation, shaking her head as she pulls back to cup Lou's cheeks, staring deep into her blue eyes with determination.

"I never want you to die for me," Debbie tells her seriously, her voice catching as she pleads, "I can't lose you, Lou."

Lou offers her a half-smile, tired but still fighting as Debbie's forehead leans against hers, both of their eyes closing.

"I'm not going anywhere, Deborah." Lou is resolute in this as she nods to her partner. "You're mine, whether you like it or not."

* * * 

The blades of the whip slashed into her skin, but Lou never fought back.

The whip stung her shoulders, but Lou never broke eye contact.

The chains tightened against her wrists and ankles, but Lou never fell to her knees.

She endured the pain with her eyes locked on the camera where he would watch, day after day, night after night, waiting for her to crumble.

Only, three years paled compared to a lifetime, and he never expected her strength to shine through.

No matter how many times he asked--no, demanded--Lou never wavered.

_Tell me where he is._

_Tell me and this could all be over._

He would tell her, iron in voice as Nicholas and his men executed every order with violent meticulousness:

 _Listen to me, Lena,_ no one _is worth all of this pain._

But oh, how he was so incredibly _wrong_.

* * * 

This time, when Lou wakes up in the middle of the night, sweat-drenched and tear-stained, she's not alone.

It takes a moment for the face in front of her to focus, but when Lou stares at Debbie's concerned gaze at her bedside, her breathing evens out and she relaxes slightly. Her hand is still gripped on the gun under her pillow, and Debbie looks down to see the padded grip sticking out from beneath the fluffy pillowcase.

They stay in silence for a moment before Lou asks the question that's been burning in her mind since they'd first driven out to Atlantic City, years ago.

"Is it scary for you?" Lou hums as the rain gently patters against her bedroom windows. "To know I've killed someone before?"

Debbie winces at the question, but she doesn't look away from Lou's piercing gaze. "No," she answers honestly, "but that's scarier."

Lou goes to move away when Debbie's hands gently place themselves on her hips. Lou watches silently as Debbie slowly kneels over her until she's straddling her waist. Lou leans up on instinct, abandoning the grip on the gun as she places her hands behind her to support her weight. She tries to ignore the way Debbie is warm against her pelvis, at how her hands are cold against the slightly exposed part of her back, and how they warm as her fingers knead into her scarred skin. Lou swallows thickly as Debbie's head leans down, her hair creating an almost secure kind of partition between them.

"Lou," Debbie whispers, a hand coming up to cup her jaw. "You are terrifying at times, but never to _me_."

Lou's breath hitches as Debbie presses their foreheads together, angling their heads so their lips are only inches apart. Lou can smell the toothpaste on Debbie's lips, and her head swims as she juts her chin up ever so slightly, causing their lips to brush against each other in the faintest of touches. 

"Deb," Lou breathes out, one of her hands reaching out to place itself firmly on Debbie's hip. "What are we doing?"

"I _love_ you," Debbie tells her, honest and vulnerable as she presses closer to Lou in search of comfort. "I can't keep hiding it. I can't keep fighting with you because I love you, and the thought of you hurting, especially because of me… God, Lou, it drives me insane and I'm so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you."

"You… you love me?" Lou asks, her voice laden with disbelief and awe, and the question only causes Debbie to clutch her closer than before.

"God, Lou, more than you could ever imagine," Debbie whispers, tears filming in her eyes. "I've loved you for thirty long and painful years."

Lou swallows the knot in her throat. "But what about Tammy?"

Debbie looks away guiltily. "Never the way I love you. It's why… when you told me… before I left… I couldn't…"

Debbie breaks into a soft cry as she closes her eyes, and Lou can feel her own chest prickling as she reimagines the day Debbie walked away from her and left her to her own devices. Lou shakes away the memory and lives in the present: in a reality where Deborah Ocean loves her as much as Lou loves her. 

So Lou doesn't wait any longer.

Reaching up, Lou attaches their lips in a searing kiss. Debbie gasps into the contact, rocking back on Lou's pelvis as she clutches at her shoulders desperately. Lou's hands both find their place at Debbie's hips, bunching the material of Debbie's sleep shirt between her fingers as she leans forward, deepening their kiss. Debbie's tongue meets her own as they explore uncharted, deserted waters that Lou'd once believed to be dried out and abandoned. 

"I love you," Lou breathes into Debbie's lips between a trembling kiss. "God, Debbie, I've always loved you."

"Show me," Debbie gasps as Lou's hands pull her closer, eliminating the gaps between them. "Show me, Lou. Please…"

Lou obliges, gently helping Debbie lift the shirt from her shoulders before discarding it somewhere on the bed. Lou stares up at Debbie's bare chest in awe and envy, noting the soft skin and the warmth which is buried there. She nuzzles closer, her mouth gently latching onto one of Debbie's dusky nipples. She lavishes her breasts with doting attention, pulling sounds she'd never imagined to come from Debbie's lips, but are a symphony to her ears. Debbie's fingers weave through her hair, her neck falling back as Lou's mouth travels up to her neck, latching onto her pulse and sucking her own beat into her skin.

And when she's left her mark, Lou leans back and stares into Debbie's dark eyes, wanting and patient, and makes a decision.

With slow movements, Lou's hands find Debbie's and draw them to the hem of her own shirt. Debbie's eyes flash, concerned.

"If you're not ready," Debbie whispers softly, "we don't have to, Lou. I will _never_ force you, baby."

The familiar pet name sends shivers down Lou's spine, and she shakes her head. "I want you to see me, Debbie. I… I need you to see me."

At the pleading tone of her voice, Debbie can only wordlessly nod as she helps ease the oversized band shirt from Lou's frame. Immediately, Lou cowers under Debbie's searching gaze, ashamed of the new scars which litter her body. Debbie's fingers are gentle and warm as they trace each and every one, mapping the constellations of broken skin and marred blemishes until there's nothing left for her to learn. And they both know it's just the surface, that these scares pale in comparison to the scars which plague the inside of Lou's mind, but when Debbie looks to her without judgement, Lou wonders if maybe it might possible for those scars to fade, too. Lou reaches up and kisses Debbie again, feeling her own body tremble and shiver with anticipation.

"I…," Lou chokes out as she hides her face in Debbie's neck worriedly. "I've never… not unwillingly…"

"Ssh," Debbie whispers as she combs through Lou's hair. "We'll go slow, baby. I promise. I won't hurt you, never again. And if at any point you want to stop, we can. It's okay, Lou."

Lou nods again, burying her face against the warmth and strength in Debbie's chest as those nimble hands explore her body. Lou presses kiss after kiss into Debbie's skin, reminding them both that they're here, that while there are still bridges and rivers and fucking mountains between them, they're still together, and that's worth more than any necklace or insane amount of cash in the world. They will still, and always will, find their way back home.

And home?

Home has always been just the two of them, together, infinite in time and space.

 _Forever_.

So when Lou finally has the courage to tip Debbie backwards and gently pin her to the bed, those thoughts resonate in her head, pushing away the pain and suffering she's endured for so long. Her eyes don't leave Debbie's own as she gently reaches between them to slide off Debbie's panties, and then her own boxer briefs, leaving them bare in the light of the moon spilling between the clouds and the rain. Debbie's hair fans out around her head like a halo, and Lou's never been religious, but she looks to Debbie and she feels like this is the only taste of heaven she'll ever have. She cups Debbie's cheek softly.

"You're beautiful," Lou whispers softly, slotting herself almost naturally between Debbie's legs. "I love you, Deb."

"You're my everything," Debbie replies as her legs gently wind over Lou's hips, pulling her closer. "Feel me, baby. I'm yours."

Lou sneaks a hand between them, gasping as she feels wetness coating her fingertips. The warmth between them is near scalding, but Lou would burn in Debbie's inferno like Dante himself, lost to the sensations of their love and lust. She gently sweeps her fingers over Debbie's clit before gently slipping those two soaked digits inside. Lou almost collapses at the instant Debbie hugs her close, almost afraid to uncurl in the fear of Lou fading away.

"I'm not going anywhere," Lou murmurs into Debbie's lips, unwilling to let Debbie worry longer. "I'm here, Deb. I… I want you to feel me…"

Debbie's soft gasp is enough to guide Lou into gently thrusting her fingers forward until she establishes a slow rhythm. Meanwhile, Debbie's own hand snakes its way over her front--teasing her nipple and causing Lou's hips to buck deliciously into her warmth--before she traces over the hard line of Lou's abdominal muscles, learning and memorizing each line. Finally, after much teasing, Debbie reaches the happy trail of peach fuzz under Lou's belly-button.

"You okay?" Debbie asks amidst Lou's steady thrusts, her voice wavering only slightly. "Baby?"

"Yeah," Lou breathes out, hiding her face in Debbie's neck as she adjusts her hips, drawing them closer to Debbie's waiting fingers. "I'm good, Deb."

"Tell me if you need me to stop," Debbie tells her, pecking her forehead reassuringly. "I want this to be good for you."

"Love you," Lou says, because she can't not say it now that she's finally able to let those words breathe free from her lungs. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Debbie hums, reattaching their lips as her fingers slowly creep downwards. "Don't forget to breathe, baby."

But Lou was always terrible with instructions.

Her breath hitches as Debbie's fingers make contact with her clit. There's a flash, and for a moment Lou feels like she's trapped again, but then Debbie is there, her soft voice coaxing her through the nightmare and back to reality. She hums sweet nothings against Lou's shaky lips, assuring her and reassuring her that no one else will never touch her like that again. It takes time, more than Lou can imagine, before Debbie moves again, slowly and cautiously.

It's still painful, to be touched in a place where she was violated so many times, but Debbie takes her time to learn Lou's body, her needs. She doesn't complain when Lou's fingers slip out of her to grip at the sheets when Debbie's fingers trace around her entrance. In fact, she simply rolls them so that Lou's trembling arms can take a break holding her body weight above her own. Lou watches, through glistening eyes, as Debbie plants kiss after kiss on her chest, over her scars, soothing the pain burning within them with the hope of love and something more. It's a different burn, and it makes Lou stiffen.

"Lou?" Debbie asks, looking up worriedly. "You okay?"

"I just…," Lou drifts off, lost for words. "I didn't think this would ever happen."

Debbie's face falls in guilt as she leans up to kiss Lou fiercely. "You don't have to think anymore, Lou."

"Please don't leave me," Lou begs as her voice cracks. "Deb, I don't think I could survive if you did… not again."

"I'm not going anywhere," Debbie repeats the words Lou had said to her earlier. "I'm staying right here. Ride or die, remember?"

Lou chuckles in a watery tone, tears sliding down her cheeks as she leans up to kiss Debbie again. Her hands finally figure out how to move again as she runs her palms over the warmth and strength hidden in Debbie's back. Debbie continues her careful exploration between Lou's legs, warming her up and chasing away the demons that dare to interfere. She keeps Lou grounded when the voices in her head threaten to tear her away from this peaceful moment.

"Can I go inside?" Debbie asks softly, swallowing Lou's nerves with a gentle kiss. Lou tenses and Debbie shushes her, kissing her temple.

"Okay," Debbie hums, getting the message Lou can't verbalize. "Can I eat you out, instead?"

Lou pauses, unsure but not uncomfortable with the idea. She nods sheepishly, but Debbie doesn't move, her eyes still glazed with worry.

"Tell me what you want, love. I want to hear you," Debbie whispers, adjusting her hips slowly. Lou gulps, looking down to where Debbie's hand is trapped between their pelvises. Debbie doesn't rush her, doesn't tell her to get on with it or to suck it up, but instead, she waits, lets Lou get adjusted.

Finally, Lou finds the courage to speak. "I… I want your mouth."

Debbie smiles, pressing a kiss to Lou's forehead as she hums, "good girl. You're doing so well, baby. I love you so much."

The praise ignites a fire inside Lou which doesn't go unnoticed by Debbie. Another blush takes over Lou's cheeks, but Debbie spares her any embarrassment as she simply leans over and pecks Lou's lips before pressing kisses to chest and abdomen, before making her way between Lou's open thighs. Lou watches, one arm flung over her forehead and the other hand tangled with Debbie's own as her partner kisses her thighs and mound lovingly.

"Beautiful," Debbie hums in this delicate breath of awe. "I can't believe you're real, Lou."

Lou barely has time to react to the soft admission before Debbie's lips find her other pair, and before she knows it, Lou is gasping for breath as she burns under Debbie's gentle touch. Lou's hips buck against Debbie's mouth, her lips pursing as a desperate cry leaves her lips. Debbie's eyes stay glued on her as she works her over, slowly and gently, until she's warm and ascending to the Heavens. Lou looks back down, tears welling in her eyes as Debbie hums against her clit, lapping at her like she's a fine wine. Debbie doesn't just eat her out--she devours her like a prophet feasting before his people.

"Fuck," Lou breathes out as a low burn settles in the pit of her stomach. "Fuck, Debbie…"

Debbie's hands squeeze hers tighter, acknowledging her and rooting her back to the ground. The action serves as a catalyst as Lou's hips buck once again, and she feels herself growing impossibly closer to her first ever climax. It's a terrifying journey, and Lou can only compare it to the feeling before she'd jumped out of a plane during her twenty-seventh birthday--a gift Debbie had been more than happy to give her but reluctant to participate in herself.

Lou's done many daring things: she's looked death in the eye more times than she could count.

But this?

This is the spark she's never touched, the flame that had never been lit, the hope that never grew.

Until now.

Lou comes undone with a poignant, haunting whimper. Tears slide down her cheeks as Debbie guides her through her powerful orgasm, not even coming up for air as she keeps Lou steady. Lou's grip on her fingers is unrelenting, but Debbie squeezes back even if her fingers may break. Her eyes stay glued to Lou's own, even as Lou has to turn away because the image of Debbie's dark eyes trained on her own between her thighs is beautifully overwhelming.

And then, when the waves ebb and her legs are left to nothing but numb tingles, Lou finally melts into the bed.

Debbie kisses her way up her frame, pausing to lavish her breasts, before she kisses her on the lips, allowing Lou to taste herself on her tongue.

"Baby?" Debbie asks softly, pulling their lips away, panting against her lips. "You okay?"

Lou's heart melts again at the gentle care in Debbie's voice as she nods. "Better than I've ever been, honey."

Debbie smiles bashfully, tucking herself against Lou's side, her centre pressing ever so slightly against Lou's thigh. She's not verbally saying it, but Lou gets the message. She flips them over, ignoring the ebbing tingles in her bottom half as she gently adjusts her thigh so it's right between Debbie's legs. A soft gasp parts her partner's lips as Lou gently grinds upwards, spreading more of that wetness around the marred skin, the ridges and grooves of her scars providing ample amount of friction for each of her thrusts. Debbie's head knocks backwards as she's left breathless after one particularly delicious thrust.

"I love watching you come undone," Lou breathes into her neck, biting into her pulse as she thrusts harder. A moan is pulled from Debbie's lips, and the sound only further motivates Lou to move better, faster, harder, to bring Debbie to the same apex of pleasure she'd been taken to, and to hold her there.

Lou's free hand, the one not clutching onto Debbie's fingers, comes up to cup Debbie's face, drawing her down into a searing kiss. The two of them grapple at each other. Debbie's hand is splayed on her stomach, before it moves to Lou's ass and cups it, aiding in the rhythmic motion of her hips. Lou revels in the soft gasp Debbie releases and the tight squeeze of their hands. Lou holds her weight up on her elbow, her muscles straining as she brings Debbie closer than ever before. She watches Debbie's eyes darken as her gaze drifts down to Lou's hardened muscles working to bring her to the edge.

"Fuck," Debbie groans as Lou's mouth finds her neck again, "Lou… fuck…"

Lou breathes in the scent of sex and sweat on Debbie's neck and thrusts harder. "I need you to come for me, honey, I need you…"

"Yours," Debbie gasps as she lets out a loud cry of pleasure, squeezing Lou's hand tighter. "Fuck, I'm coming, oh Lou…"

And the tidal wave of pleasure which consumes Debbie is enough to drown them both in serenity. Lou swallows Debbie's cries and whimpers with her own mouth, her hair catching between their lips as they kiss each other ferociously, not willing to let each other go. It's almost harsh, the intensity of their love, but then, as Debbie falls back down to Earth with Lou guiding her, it slows into something somehow less harsh but more intense, more real, more _alive_.

Neither of them realize they're both crying until they pull away, out of breath.

"I love you," Debbie whispers again, panting as she clutches onto Lou desperately. "I love you, Lou."

"I love you," Lou repeats with a quivering smile as she finally collapses at Debbie's side, arms burning. "More than all the stars in the sky."

Debbie just leans over and kisses her again, shivering as Lou's fingers tiredly trace her jaw. "Sleep, baby. I'm here."

Lou, who's not slept well for what feels like forever, can only offer a languid nod as she tucks herself into Debbie's arms. She smiles sleepily against Debbie's chest as she listens to that familiar heartbeat, their hands still tangled over Debbie's stomach. Miraculously, Debbie reaches down with her free hand to tug the comforter up both their bodies, wrapping them both in a cocoon of warmth and safety. Lou feels tucked away, hidden from her past--protected.

"Sleep," Debbie hums into her ear as she starts to nod off. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again, Lou. This I swear." It's the sheer protection and strength in Debbie's voice which lulls Lou into the comfort and safety of sleep.

For the first time in her life, Lou has a dreamless slumber, unplagued by nightmares or memories.

* * * 

"Look, not that I'm _not_ celebrating their untimely copulation--"

"Really, Tammy, that's the word you're going with right now? Copulation? Mom and Dad _boned_."

"Boned? Constance, first of all, what does that mean, and second of all, why must you be such a child?"

"Personally, I believe we should let them sleep. They've been through too much in the last few months."

"Thank you, Rose. Those were my thoughts exactly. I know they've got a lot to work through, but they deserve a rest."

"Especially Lou."

" _Constance_."

"Fine. Okay, they're both on edge or whatever, so they both deserve a break. But guys, the heist is _tomorrow_."

"Yes, I am slightly worried about that. I haven't even felt peckish for some Nutella."

"Isn't that a good thing, Rose?"

"Not even in the slightest, Tammy."

"Great. So who's volunteering to wake them up, then?"

"Not me."

"I would prefer not, but if necessary, I will do it; but there is one thing, Tamara."

"What, Rose?"

"I don't like… um… I don't like… naked people."

"Oh so _that_ explains your reaction to when Daphne took her clothes off in front of you."

"It was just… so unexpected, Constance. To be that lavishly confident with oneself, it was astonishing… and terrifying."

"I'm sure she felt complimented when you fainted, though. That's like a major ego-boost, dude."

"You know what, both of you are useless. Let's just let them wake up on their own and hope to God it's at a decent time."

Lou blinks open an eye to the muffled commotion coming from outside her bedroom door. She goes to open her mouth to call out to them to stop talking when a mouthful of hair catches her mouth and causes her to choke. Lou swipes at the strands uselessly before she looks down to see the source of the culprit. Her lips soften into a smile as she catches Debbie's head on her chest, their positions having switched at some point in the middle of the night.

Lou's hands gently thread through the knots in her lover's hair until Debbie stirs with a disgruntled groan, nuzzling closer into Lou's chest. Her palm reaches up in her sleep to protectively cup one of Lou's breasts, and the sight draws a deep chuckle from the blonde. Lou kisses Debbie's temple, her hand moving from Debbie's hair to her back. She runs soothing lines up and down the smooth skin until Debbie stirs again, stretching against her side like a cat.

"Morning," Lou hums, her voice low and raspy from a full nights' worth of sleep. Debbie gazes up at her, sleepy and hazy with love.

"Morning," Debbie mumbles, tucking her face into Lou's neck again. "You're warm… s'nice."

Lou blushes at the innocent compliment, her heart beating faster in her chest as Debbie dozes upon her with no care in the world.

"Sleep," Debbie mutters as she lapses back into unconsciousness with a tired swat at Lou's head. It's a piss-poor attempt to pat her on the head, but a sleepy Debbie is uncannily similar to a drunk Debbie, and the action only makes Lou laugh, sweet and low. She takes Debbie's hand and kisses it softly.

"No, baby. We got a job to plan, remember? The others are impatiently waiting outside."

"Fuck the others," Debbie grumbles, turning her nose into Lou's shoulder to cover her mouth with more brown hair. "I want sleep. I want _you_."

"Okay," Lou acquiesces between mouthfuls of brown hair, blushing brightly. "Remind me to tell you to get a haircut in the morning. This is getting ridiculous, Debs."

The only reply Lou gets is a smile pressed against her neck, before both of them fall back asleep.

* * * 

"Is everybody on?"

A chorus of yes' and yups' echo through the sound system as Lou watches Debbie change in the bathroom of the loft. She's adjusting her own chef's collar as she mumbles her own reply, smirking when she sees Debbie's shoulders slump in the corner of her vision. Debbie looks over at her, cheeky but still sweet, pausing in doing her mascara as they make eye-contact. Debbie takes a breath before glancing down at her watch. "Alright, half an hour to go."

Lou finishes tying up her hair into a bun before she places her cap on. She makes her way over to Debbie, slipping her arms behind her lover's waist.

"Okay," Debbie says as Lou presses her mouth to Debbie's bare shoulder, looking at both of them in the mirror. "First, no need to be nervous. The food is better on the inside than most people think and even solitary can be kind of peaceful." This earns an eye-roll from Lou, and Debbie has to bite back a smirk as she hears Constance protest over the line. Tammy mutters something colourful under her breath, but Lou hushes them with a low hum.

Debbie shivers when Lou sternly says, "let her continue, ladies."

Constance whines but eventually agrees. _"Yes, Dad."_

Debbie smiles, blushing as Lou's mouth returns to her shoulder. "I just want to say… thank you. The last three weeks have been amazing for me and you all worked very hard for this moment." The warmth and love in Lou's chest grows exponentially as she hears the seriousness and pride in Debbie's voice. "So whatever happens tonight, I want you to remember one thing. You are not doing this for me. You're not doing this for you. Somewhere out there is an eight-year-old girl lying in bed dreaming of being a criminal. Let's do this for her." Lou hugs Debbie closer, a wider smile playing at her lips.

"Inspirational," she hums into Debbie's ear. Debbie turns her in her arms, reaching up to draw Lou into a deep kiss.

"I love you," Debbie whispers when she pulls away. "No matter what happens tonight, I need you to know that."

"I do," Lou hums as she pulls Debbie closer by the hips to kiss her again. "And I love you, too. Forever, honey."

" _Um,_ _don't you know there are emotionally stunted children who don't understand the concept of love present?_ "

Lou and Debbie both roll their eyes as they simultaneously say, "really, Constance?"

_"If we're all going to add our piece, I'm glad y'all figured your shit out. I wasn't sure if I could handle the sexual tension anymore."_

_"You know, I find it oddly surprising that it's Debbie who was more vocal--"_

_"I regret buying these earpieces, honestly."_

_"Tammy, just because you and Nine have quiet sex after the kids are asleep doesn't mean the other half doesn't live differently."_

_"Oh boy, it is not at all quiet. When Tim-Tam comes out to play, it's a whole other ball game."_

_"Leslie! Seriously?"_

_"Oop, looks like someone's not having kinky sex tonight. Is Tammy into BDSM? I see her as a leather and lace kind of girl."_

_"I'll hack all your computer games if you don't shut up, Cons."_

"Ladies," Debbie sighs in exasperation as she leans her head against Lou's chuckling shoulders. "Can we please just… focus."

_"You got it boss, but just to clarify--am I going to get in trouble if I eat some of this shit, because I've never tasted rich people food before and I--"_

"Constance!"

_"Right. Got it. I'll save my appetite for the pizza and juice boxes later."_

* * * 

The heist goes off without a single hitch, aside from the stoner bus-boys who threatened to derail the whole operation.

Lou leans against the doorway of the living room, smiling as Constance and Nine chat about the highlights of the job. Tammy and Rose are discussing the flawlessness of the plan, and Amita is texting someone on her phone (presumably the tinder date Constance had set her up with, if her smile is anything to go by). It's odd, Lou thinks, that days ago she would sit in this same loft feeling empty and hollow, caving piece by piece into the suffering which ate away at her. She'd stay awake, pouring through motorcycle and car manuals, or reading through club paperwork, or simply staring off into space, waiting for morning to shine through so she wouldn't have to face her demons. Now, she's standing, watching as these six ladies--her family--occupy her space.

"Hey."

Lou turns at the sound of Debbie's soft voice, and her lips curl up into a smile as she watches Debbie cross the space between the stairwell and where she's standing in a few confident strides. Debbie finds herself leaning into Lou's front, tucking her face against Lou's chest and palming her abdomen over her soft shirt. Lou's lips find Debbie's hair, while her hands run soothing lines down her lover's back until Debbie is melting into her embrace with a purr.

"You did well, Ocean. Come a long way from Atlantic City," Lou chuckles as she takes more of Debbie's boneless weight. "I'm proud of you, honey."

"Couldn't have done it without you," Debbie hums, hugging Lou closer. "You were always there, every step of the way."

Lou sighs sadly, shaking her head. "I wasn't, but I vow to be now. I'm better, stronger, and I've got something I've never had before."

Debbie looks up at her, cocking her head as she peers at Lou, lost in the throws of love and fondness. "And what's that, Miller?"

Lou looks to Debbie, before she gazes back out to the women in her living room with a faint smile.

"A _family_."

* * * 

A few weeks later, Lou hands the phone she'd taken from Nicholas to Nine Ball to decode.

When it is discovered that Viktor is only days away from the loft, Lou tells the truth to the six--now seven, with Daphne's late (fashionably, she claimed) addition--women who'd dug into her soul and rooted themselves there. At once, Constance and Nine Ball are vying to fight by her side, but when Lou raises her hand and tells her this is beyond their scope, they quietly settle down--with a little side-eye from both Debbie and Tammy, of course. Lou doesn't go into details of her childhood, only mentions that her father is a very, very terrible man and that they should steer clear of her for the next few weeks, and lay low if they can. She tells them only to contact her on a burner or pay phone if necessary and to be on the look out for anything suspicious.

"He shouldn't come after any of you," Lou assures them as she swallows thickly. "He only wants me."

"We can fight this together, Lou. You don't have to do this alone," Amita tells her nervously. "I'm not good with violence, but I can try."

Lou's lip curls up in a half-smile. "It's alright, Amita. I'll be alright. I'm ready for him, honestly."

Debbie stands at her side, Lou's hand gripped firmly in her own, a united front, as she says. "We're going to face him together."

Lou still looks hesitant, but the fire in Debbie's eyes is unrelenting and Lou nods, taking a deep breath as a throat clears in the room.

"I've already hacked the loft's security," Nine Ball says protectively before she shrugs, smirking. "I'll be your big brother, so to say."

"Kinky," Constance grins, lightening the tension in the room as she earns a groan from everyone, not including Lou (who simply smirks and nods her appreciation, much to Debbie's chagrin). But then, the younger woman turns serious as she stands and walks up to Lou before wrapping her arms around her waist. Lou swallows thickly as Constance hugs her tighter, and she's suddenly reminded of the time Harry had hugged her like this in Australia.

"Just… be safe, okay?" Constance mumbles into her shirt. "I know I'm not your kid or anything--"

"I'm your father, Constance. I thought we established that long ago," Lou hums in a low chuckle, blinking back tears. "I love you, kid. Even if you drive me up the damn wall sometimes." Constance beams at that, pulling back to sheepishly look at Debbie, before she flings herself at the Ocean, too.

"Don't let anything happen to her, okay?" Constance says as she pulls away before sighing and adding, "or yourself. We need you both, Mom."

"I won't," Debbie promises, teary-eyed. "I'll be right there with her, every step of the way."

Lou takes a deep breath and looks around the room before she nods to them gratefully.

"Alright then," she says as she glances to Debbie. "It's time."

* * * 

"I'll be right across the street with Nine, Tam, and Cons, ready to call the police at your word."

Debbie adjusts Lou's collar nervously as she speaks, unable to look Lou in the eyes. The loft is empty now, bare for the old couch and the empty room. Her voice carries over the void, making herself seem louder than she wants to. Lou reaches up to stop her fiddling, drawing Debbie's watery gaze upwards. She waits, lingers on Debbie's brown eyes, losing herself in the forest which tempers them. She cups Debbie's jaw and brings her in for a tender, loving kiss.

"I love you," Lou says as she pulls away, "I can do this, Deb."

"Okay," Debbie whispers, a tear sliding down her cheek as she pulls Lou closer, letting their foreheads graze. "Okay… okay…"

"Don't panic, baby. When this is over, I'll take you somewhere nice, warm, away from the buzz of the city."

"I have parole," Debbie chuckles, watery and clogged as she struggles not to sob. "I'm trying to be an honest woman."

Lou smirks, a lone tear dripping down from her own face as she pulls Debbie closer. "Now that's an oxymoron if I've ever seen one."

_"Alright guys, I've tagged his car. He's about ten minutes out. You gotta move, Debs."_

Debbie and Lou shiver at the seriousness in Nine Ball's voice. Debbie croaks, "I should be with you when he comes, you shouldn't be alone--"

"Deborah," Lou hums softly, squeezing their hands. "We talked about this."

Fought really, tooth and nail.

Debbie had shouted that Lou couldn't risk her life like this, but Lou calmly explained that Debbie would serve to be the distraction her father would use to unravel her, and the point of luring him was not to lose her lifelong battle, but to end it. Debbie had been mad for a few days, but once Nine Ball had informed them that Viktor had landed in New York and was on the move, she knew that she couldn't interfere with Lou's plan. And after all, when Lou had been interrupted gazing at the padlocked room the eve before Viktor was only a few miles out, Debbie finally understood.

This was Lou's story, and this was finally her chance to be in control, to end it once and for all.

Even Debbie couldn't step in front of that.

"I'll be okay," Lou whispers, kissing her again deeply. "I need you to stay with Tammy and Nine. Stay safe, don't do anything stupid."

"You're literally staring down your terrorist father," Debbie protests weakly. "It's safe to say I'm the brains of this relationship."

Lou chuckles, tenderly pressing a kiss to Debbie's forehead as she says, "tell that to me when you finally learn to count cards."

Debbie nods, allowing Lou to kiss her once again, sweet and slow. The two of them stand in the moment, basking in the sense of love and peace, the calm before the storm. Finally, when Nine Ball tells them to hurry up, Debbie pulls away and allows Lou to stand back. Lou watches as Debbie gives her one last teary nod before she hustles out the side door and towards the lot opposite to the house. When she radios in safely, Lou releases the breath she'd been holding with a relieved sigh. Then, she pulls the gun from her waistband and loads it, before she takes a seat on the sofa, staring at the main door.

_"He's here, Lou, a few seconds from the door. Good luck."_

* * * 

Viktor's aged well, if Lou could say anything about it. 

He hadn't been there when Nicholas had come back to torture her for the years Debbie had been in prison and Danny and Harry had gone missing, but Lou had always assumed from the sound of his voice that he'd look still as menacing as he used to. But when he walks through the door, Lou takes in his greying hair and fitted black suit, and there's something that catches in the back of her throat as she fights to remain sitting and to not shoot him there.

"Lena," Viktor rumbles as he shuts the door behind him, smiling at the sight of her. "Oh how you've grown."

Lou stiffens, swallowing her anger as she grits out, "that's not my name."

"No," Viktor drawls, his accent thick as he slowly enters the loft, looking around curiously. "I suppose not."

"Where is my brother?" Lou asks, the grip on her gun tightening as she cocks it. "And where's Danny?"

"You're still on about this?" Viktor asks, though there's no mocking undertone to his voice. Instead, he sounds almost sympathetic.

"Listen, you old bastard," Lou snarls as she stands and points the gun in his direction. "I've had enough of your games. Where are they?"

Viktor looks at the padlocked room with a distant expression before he turns to face her, sighing as he inches closer. Lou grips the gun tighter.

"Not another step," Lou growls. "Tell me where they are or I'll shoot you where you stand."

"And what?" Viktor asks, cocking his head tiredly. "Another person will replace me, and the world will move on. We are vessels, Lena."

"No," Lou chuckles darkly, blinking back tears. "No one could replace you, Father. You are a special kind of vile."

Viktor hums, nodding as he looks down. "Your mother was my favourite. You have my eyes, but you have her fire."

"Stop," Lou bites out, trying to stop her hands from shaking. "Don't you dare talk about her, you bastard."

"She loved you so much," Viktor continues to reminisce as he looks up, staring into Lou's gleaming eyes. "She doted on you, cleaned your wounds, sang you lullabies. Made you soft where I tried to make you hard. Made you warm where I tried to make you cold. I suppose you are the best of both of us."

"Stop!" Lou screams as fires a warning shot at his feet, the noise ripping through the room. "I don't want to hear your stories, old man."

"I had so many plans for you," Viktor says, iron flooding his voice. "You were to be the greatest leader the world would've ever known."

Just as Lou goes to argue again, Viktor reaches into his pocket for a small device. Lou's eyes widen when she recognizes what it is.

"I always wondered what parts of you remained untouched by my training," Viktor says in a slow drawl, eyeing the device. "Let's test my theory, shall we?"

Before Lou can fire a shot, Victor slides the metal upwards and a low tone blares out, sending Lou to her knees. She tries to fight the urges which pool within her. She can hear Viktor chuckling in the distance as the darkness threatens to take over, to make her submit, to make her fall back on instinct. She sees herself in training, ripping apart bodies without a care or second glance. She watches herself stabbing and shooting, murdering in cold blood. She remembers her father's proud grin as he'd powered the tone off, only to reveal a mass of lifeless bodies, of women and children, torn apart by her.

For a moment, Lou almost tumbles into the tempting drone, but then she hears something soft and sweet call out to her.

_"You are stronger than him, Lou."_

Debbie's voice cuts through the haze of the memories, pulling her back into the present. Lou growls as Viktor turns the volume up, noticing her resisting to the noise. Lou clutches at her ears, trying to block it out as she screams. Her body feels different, more distant, and she's losing control quickly.

"You can't resist me forever, Lena."

 _"That's not your name,"_ she hears Debbie again, louder this time. " _Your name is Lou Miller, and you are not your father's daughter."_

Viktor grabs at her collar, hoisting her up as fury dances in his ice blue eyes. "Look at me, Lena, look at what you were built for--"

"Stop. It." Lou growls out the words, struggling in his grip. "I-I'm not--"

"You are nothing," Viktor drawls, slamming her into the ground as he hovers over her. "You only a vessel, Lena."

Lou cries out in agony as Viktor grabs her collar and hoists her up before slamming her down again. Lou struggles to get up, but as she stumbles to her knees, a boot connects with her side and she slams into the wall, wheezing. The tone is interfering with her ability to even see straight, so she can't anticipate the fist which buries itself in her gut, or the knee which smashes her face against the wall, and Lou's sent tumbling down in a heaping mess.

Viktor leans over, chuckling in her ear. "Pathetic. I raised you better than this."

Lou scrabbles as she tries to stand, but she gets knocked back down with a harsh punch to the face, dizzying her again.

"You will die alone," Viktor whispers as the darkness creeps closer than before, "unloved and forgotten by the only world you've ever known."

_"I love you and I'm never letting you go, baby. So I need you to hold on, just hold on to me."_

Lou tethers herself to memories of her and Debbie getting ice cream after their first con, of the pure elation and joy in Debbie's eyes when they'd accomplished their first heist together. She remembers walking hand-in-hand down crowded shops, casing joints they were interested in. She remembers Debbie trying on their loot in a goofy fashion show in their small one-bedroom while they both got drunk and watched re-runs of _I Love Lucy_. She remembers Debbie sleeping in her arms, at peace with the world and content in the warmth of Lou's embrace. She remembers their fights, the big ones and the small--the screaming matches and the cold shoulders, the times they both walked out on each other but then the one time they didn't.

_"That's it, Lou, come back to me. You're not that person anymore. You are stronger than him, baby. Fight it."_

Lou sees Debbie's head on her chest, her hair splayed out around them like a blanket. She sees Debbie's smile, the blush on her cheeks when Lou kisses the sensitive spot under her neck. She hears Debbie's laugh, fully-bellied and loud, when Lou tells her that she'll wear a tutu to Daphne's premiere if she and Rose don't get together by the end of the year. She feels Debbie's hand, warm and soft, in the palm of her own. She hears Debbie whispering in her ear in the middle of the night, rubbing their cold feet together, telling her of their plans for the future. She feels Debbie all around her, pulling her out of the darkness and back into the light. With each blink she takes, she feels herself moving further away from the trap of the tone and into the present.

_"I have the diamond, baby. All I need now is you."_

Viktor's eyes widen in horror and shock as Lou snaps out of the daze and reaches for the gun at her side, pressing it up against his chest.

"No one else dies under your hand," Lou says as she reaches up to grab the metal device from Viktor's hand, crushing it in her grip before throwing the remains away. Viktor follows the metal before he shouts in disbelief and raises his fist.

But Lou's ready as she juts her arm up, sliding the gun under his heart.

And then, with one last breath, Lou pulls the trigger.

"You… silly… girl…," Viktor gurgles as he turns over on his back, blood pooling in his mouth as he stares at her, wide-eyed. "You… you…"

"No one replaces you," Lou tells him coldly, shoving the gun to the side. "And I'm _done_ killing."

"Y-You can't w-walk away from who… w-who you… are," Viktor chuckles as he coughs on his own blood. "You are my c-child. My… L-Lena."

"No," Lou says as she wipes blood from her nose, barely wincing at the subtle sting. "Not anymore, Father. It's over."

Viktor only chuckles again, sighing as he stares up at the ceiling blankly. Lou sits at his side, an arm wrapped around her side as she looks to the spatters of blood on the hardwood floor. For a moment, it's quiet, with the two of them just side-by-side, waiting for the inevitable to finally settle in and end it all.

"Your brother…," Viktor rasps, drawing Lou's attention. "He… h-he's in C-Canada… M-Montreal… w-with that damned… _Ocean_."

Lou frowns at her dying father, confused. "Why are you telling me this?"

Viktor sighs as he looks over at her, eyes fading fast. "B-Because, despite it all… I still… s-still love you… my sweet L-Lena."

Lou's eyes water as Viktor closes his eyes and whispers, " _my lionhearted girl._ "

And then, with one last struggling breath, Viktor Solokov is no more than a cold body in an empty room. 

Lou waits with him, letting his final words course through her veins as she stands. She looks down to the man who had ruined her life, who had tried to destroy her even when he wasn't even in the same country. Lou studies his face, the wrinkles on his forehead, the scrubble of his greyed beard. He hadn't reformed, and Lou hadn't forgiven him even in his final breaths, but even she can tell that her father was not the same man he'd been years ago when she'd fled. She stares down at him, before she kneels, taking his hands and placing them over his chest before she steps back, finally allowing the tears she'd been holding to stream down her face. She takes a step back, looking at the empty loft and taking it all in, before she sets her jaw and gets to work.

She goes into the kitchen and grabs the kerosene before uncapping the lid. She pours it all over the main floor and the kitchen, before she goes onto the second floor to do the same. She pauses in her own room, setting the bottle down to go into the bathroom. She opens the medicine cabinet and looks at the assortment of pills and painkillers she's kept. With a deep breath, she closes the cabinet and returns to the kerosene, splashing it over the tiles.

The last room to be completed is the padlocked one. She opens it carefully, letting the lock fall to the floor with a thud as she opens the door and looks inside. She examines the blood on the wall, the chains, the broken tripod and camera, the collection of tapes hidden in the chest drawer at the back. 

After splashing the last of the kerosene inside, Lou closes the door and locks it again, not wanting to ever see that retched place again.

She splashes a trail from the living room to the main room, before tossing the empty plastic back inside. She reaches inside her pocket for her lighter and flicks it on, standing in the darkness as she stares into the empty living room, her eyes falling onto the motionless, prone body of her deceased father.

"Rest in pieces," Lou whispers under her breath as she tosses the lighter inside, "may you rot in Hell, you bastard." 

When the loft lights up in a furious blaze, Lou turns around and doesn't look back.

* * * 

"I know that it was a moment and everything, but when you just walked away when the building like exploded--it was so hot, Dad. _Literally_."

Lou chuckles from where Debbie is tending to the bruising on her cheek with a delicate press of the ice-pack against her skin. Constance collapses on the couch in their new apartment, a four-bedroom loft in Manhatten on the fortieth floor. Tammy and Nine Ball beam over at her happily from where they're settled into one of the love seats, hands intertwined. Rose and Daphne are sitting and chatting quietly on the sofa while _Jeopardy_ plays in the background. Amita is prattling on to Debbie over her ear about how Lou was so badass, but that she should never do it again, because it was terrifying.

"I second that dear," Rose says worriedly, eyeing the blossoming purple on Lou's left eye. "You look good wearing purple, but not like that."

"Chicks dig battle scars," Constance grins as she looks over at Debbie, waggling her brows. "Right, Mom?"

"I'm going to take your TV privileges away, Constance."

"Boo," Constance says as she slides next to Lou on the couch before grabbing at a handle of Doritos from God-knows-where. "You're boring."

Debbie just rolls her eyes, but Lou leans up to peck her on the lips before she can throw out a retort. Debbie, seemingly satisfied by the show of affection, takes the ice away and moves into the kitchen to place it back in the freezer. Lou groans as she shifts on the couch, raising a concerned glance from the ladies. She waves them off, chuckling about it being related to aging, rather than the broken rib she's still nursing since the showdown a week ago.

Constance eventually leaves her on the couch to join in some Tinder-related discourse with Amita, leaving the spot next to her open for Debbie to settle into. Lou hums as Debbie tucks herself against her side, nuzzling into her neck as they watch their band of misfits meander around their apartment. Lou is content to listen to their mindless chatter, and to feel Debbie's warmth bleeding comfort and safety into her side, but she's stuck on a memory.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Debbie asks, out of earshot from the others. Lou chuckles, kissing her forehead.

"You're a millionaire and yet you're still so cheap, how does that work?"

Debbie rolls her eyes, lightly thwacking Lou's shoulder. "Fine, a buck for your thoughts?"

Lou hums. "Generous."

"I try," Debbie jokes, before her gaze turns serious, but still soft. "What's on your mind, Lou?"

"You," Lou replies as she tangles their fingers together. "Specifically something you said, back at the loft."

Debbie tries to act innocent, but Lou sees right through it. "What are you talking about, baby?"

"Oh," Lou says nonchalantly, playing into Debbie's little game. "Something about a diamond?"

"Right," Debbie says as she blushes. "About that…"

"Deborah," Lou warns in a low growl, "what are you-- _oh_."

While Lou had been preparing to admonish her for yet another trick, Debbie had quietly reached into her back pocket and pulled out a beautiful, but simple ring. Lou peers at it curiously, her heart beating louder in her chest as Debbie holds it out, hovering it over Lou's left hand as she swallows nervously.

"I didn't prepare a speech or anything," Debbie quietly admits, "but I just knew… I just… I have _always_ wanted to ask you, Lou. You've always been it for me, baby."

Lou only smiles, her eyes watering as she leans down and whispers, "then ask me, Debbie."

"Lou," Debbie asks as she looks up to Lou with an earnest smile. "Will you be my partner for life, forever and beyond, and do me the honor of marrying me?"

Lou just laughs as she nods, extending her hand to allow Debbie to slip the ring on her finger before she replies, "yes, God, yes." Debbie breathes out in relief as she snuggles closer.

"I'll always be your partner," Lou hums as she presses a searing kiss to Debbie's lips. "You're my ride or die, remember?"

"Yeah," Debbie says dreamily, cozying back up to Lou as they watch their friends prattle on, oblivious to the recent evolution of their relationship. "So where to next, _partner_?"

Lou squeezes their hands and smiles, a knowing look passing between them as they lose themselves in each other's gazes, understanding there's still one last task to complete.

"I don't know," Lou hums as she leans forward and kisses her wife-to-be. "How about Canada?"

Debbie only smiles into the kiss, blushing slightly as she whispers her reply.

"Sounds _perfect_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want an epilogue with Harry and Danny, let me know. I have thought of something ACTUALLY short (lol @ me literally all my o8 fan fics are like 15,000k+ words I have a legit problem). It would just be a fluffy piece. I’m working on finishing the wedding chapter for the OG o8 fic I wrote, which is nearly done and equally as long hahah. Anyways, let me know if you want an extension of the ending since it’s been so angsty.
> 
> Anyways thought I would share why I think Lou is a cannon reformed alcoholic. In the flashbacks, Lou was drinking heavily in the casino and the bingo (when she called bingo, her voice was super slurred and she definitely sounded drunk), and I think that part of the reason behind Loubbie’s rough patch is because Lou was more interested in drinking, while Debbie wanted more so she found Claude. Also, Lou’s ethanol tattoo is symbolic of her finally meeting sobriety and maintaining it (this is in the fantastic AU where Lou is Harry’s so-called mistress and it’s one of my favourite fics ever). Also I’m 97% sure Lou is the only one who never drinks alcohol in the movie, but allows the girls to drink without making a deal of it. 
> 
> Anyways that’s just my blurb.


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